


Spiderman does it again

by Eye_of_Purgatory



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Peter Parker, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Pre-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Whump, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:51:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 44,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eye_of_Purgatory/pseuds/Eye_of_Purgatory
Summary: Spiderman was just trying to help save the universe, now he may have to do it himself. When spiderman gets thrown back into the past he must fight for the universe when nobody can even tell.What if Doctor Strange did have some tricks when giving the time stone to Thanos?





	1. Green, the worst color

I can see the people around Thanos, but my webs won’t get me there fast enough to help. Mr. Stark is fighting him alone, he seems to be getting injured but Thanos is not. Doc is on the ground at the sidelines, cradling some part of his side.

Mister Stark falls over but I’m not fast enough getting there to help him, he clutches a wound while Thanos looks at him menacingly. My hearing just barely catches the tail end of their words.

“You have my respect Stark, when I’m done half of humanity will still be alive. I hope they remember you.” Mr. Stark doubles over in pain, groaning in pain but I just can't get there in time!

“Stop.” I hear, and as I stop, close but not close enough to the rest of the group. Doctor Strange looks me directly in the eyes.

“Spare his life, and I will give you the stone.” Strange sputters out, looking at Thanos as an illusion pops up before my eyes, a very faint and flickering copy of Dr. Strange. The copy turns to me, giving me the exact same look of seriousness the other one conveys.

_ “I’m so sorry Peter, remember that.” _ It whispers, so quiet that even I with the superhuman hearing can barely make out, and nobody else even pays any notice.

“No tricks.” Thanos demands, glaring at Doc as the man tries to hold out his weakening hand. Impatient, Thanos aims the gauntlet at Mr. Stark.

_ “I’m sending you alone, it’s the only way.” _ The wraith disappears, leaving me to watch as Strange looks at Thanos.

“Don’t” Doc groans, and summons a small green stone to his hand, it floating above his grasp before falling into his hand. As it makes contact everything flashes green.

-

_ Later I would say that the Green -green what a terrible color I hate even the thought- was like being ripped in two, like having all of the body torn away bit by bit and stitched back together with superglue and fire. But then It felt like pain, having all the air forced out of my lungs as the skin felt like it was burning with acid. I could feel my heart just beat in pain, a horrible breathless feeling that made me want to tear out my heart and throw it across the room if it would just die die die and stop trying to hurt me. My senses were ripped away from me in what felt like hours, but for all I know now might have been days, leaving my in all senses deaf and blind. But suddenly I was being shoved back out of the horrible despicable green. _

_ - _

My eyes reopen to near total darkness, and an almost silent room, the only feeling left a sharp pain on my left arm. Voices are around me but I can’t even think of trying to focus on them when my balance is atrocious and my body weak. My arm reaches up to smack the pain but hits it with roughly the strength of a tissue, and what feels like a bug starts to crawl on my arm. I smack the bug far harder this time, which kills it at last.

“Hey Peter, you alright?” I hear, faint and panicked, but I would recognize the voice of Ned anywhere. Something familiar, like Deja-Vu washes over me, and Ned’s voice seems weird. Its a little bit easier to see, light enough for me to tell that the light is coming from multiple ceiling bulbs.

“I … uh … i don’t think so.” And I really don’t, nothing is hurting me but I have no idea where I am, Doctor Strange didn’t even mention anything other than me being sent somewhere.

_ Is Thanos still here, how did I manage to forget about Thanos, he is a universe destroying monster that I am supposed to help kill! Where am I, where did he even send me oh god oh god how am I supposed to deal with this. Why is Ned here! Did doc send me back to the field trip so that I can be safe, he should have sent Mr. Stark instead he was injured. _

Calm down Peter

You’re Spiderman, it’ll be ok

“Do you need to go to the nurse?” He is panicking now, why is he panicking? This is hardly an issue and he knows ive had worse, “Wait, no there’s no nurse, we’re on a field trip! Uh -uh don’t worry I’ve got you if you need me. I think the field trip will be over soon?”

“I’ll be fine Ned, really.”

“You better be, we’re rewatching the prequels tonight, and please don’t be sick Peter. You should go home if you’re sick.” The world is getting a little brighter, and some noise other than Ned’s voice seems to be here, a slight ringing of a teacher’s? voice.

“I’m not sick, just give me a few seconds, I’ll be alright I always am.” So thats why it's so strange that it’s happening now, but what did Doc do? Where am I, did I go back to this morning, or to the field trip?

“You once had an asthma attack during a basketball game and went to the nurse for the next two periods.” I think I remember that, It was a few years ago, and Flash tormented me endlessly afterwards. Last asthma attack ever, still doesn’t mean it matters.

“I don’t have asthma anymore Ned, you know that.” My tone is flippant, and the light is coming back to me, but so faintly. Ned has a concerned look on his face, or is that anger?

“What are you talking about Peter, that was last week. You’re wheezing right now! Do you need your inhaler, you should have your inhaler. Are you ok?” Is it, back in time? How far back in time, how long. I’m on a field trip, I have a near photographic memory so I should be able to remember if he just told me. It has to be between the ages of about eleven -because I’m taller than Ned- but that leaves plenty of room.

_ Oh god I’m back in time, not just back in time but unknown. I’ll have to do all of my spiderman things again, oh god how do I even conceptualize this? I’m his only chance right? So I need to get better, so much better that I can’t even imagine it. I’m not good enough, I’m only spiderman, why did he send me back! _

“Yeah, yeah im ok yeah, this seems like kinda a shitty field trip to uh-” “the name’s at the tip of my tongue uh hmm-” Its fake, but Ned has absolutely no reason to suspect me for anything, why didn’t Doc tell me when he was sending me back to?

“It’s Oscorp. You don’t feel so great do you Peter? It would be so cool if we were the victims of some superhero mind controller, that would be awesome. Uh well not for you anyways, that wouldn’t be so cool.” It’s too obvious, I guess I expected it but I-h didn’t. It makes sense he wouldn’t send me back too far to have my spidery powers. I guess. It its too too much, it all bubbles over and I want-need to laugh.

“Nothings wrong, lets just look at all the cool Oscorp things, what’s she talking about is so interesting!” I practically scream, I practically cry. I can’t even hear her, I just see the faint outline of the female figure I remember being here.

“She’s talking about the safety protocols Peter.”

“Very important precedent for the rest of our lives, what about it.” I say with a grin, and he faintly furrows his eyebrows.

“Peter, you’re acting really weird.”

“I know.”

-

It’s almost worse the second time, the powers making my strength fluctuate as fast as it fluctuates my mood, but it’s ok. I just focus on trying not to scream in pain when I can feel my bones reconstituting to be stronger and lighter, I manage far better than I did last time. Ned just continues to watch the prequels without suspecting a thing.

It’s over before I know it, maybe I fell asleep when my eyes were clenched with the far too bright far too bright. May picks me up with the drawn sign of grief that keeps her eyes bagged and face frowned when she smiles, I forgot that, and forgot that I forgot it. She is quickly assured of my health when we get home, leaving me to silent cries of pain as my abs form out of nothing but baby fat.

-

“Everything is fine Peter, you’re spiderman.” My whispered breath runs out and coughing overcomes me for a second time, “ Spiderman, well not technically yet, but Spiderman!” A hysterical chuckle escapes my lips, but nobody is there to hear it.

May left me here alone when she noticed my symptoms, a fever but not to high (I did not put an ice-pack on my head to listen it-you’re lying), coughing, tiredness, slight delirium. She leaves me alone this time, unlike the last time. My phone buzzes next to me, so I bring it to my face.

**Ned** \- You ok Peter? 

**Ned** \- I can bring you the chem homework.

I stare uncomprehendingly before sitting up and typing out a simple reply.

**Peter** \- Ty

_ I’ll fail. Nothing will help me defeat thanos, the world destroying M O N S T E R! Who even knows about him, how can I help, why did he send ME back? Well I have to make a plan anyways, defeat that Parker luck with good planning. _

I drag myself, physically drag, to the desk. I grab the nearest wooden pencil and It doesn’t immediately break under my grip, bringing it to a crumpled up piece of graph paper.

List

I only decide on that, a short list, a few goals.

  1. Make new suit.
  2. Web fluid
  3. Don’t reveal self

I don’t care what my hope says, I really shouldn’t tell anyone. That would mean keeping it from Ned again, which may be really difficult, It would be easier to be quieter in school or something. But I don’t know what else to do, should I try to skip a few grades, a few more Ap classes to boot? I was in my senior year when I went back, and almost done with my credits, could I skip straight to college? Would that help?

Probably, I should aim for self improvement. I need to be better, so much better just in order to try to eat Thanos. College would give me more spiderman flexibility house anyways.

  1. Skip classes, College?

On the general topic of self improvement, I need to be stronger in any way humanly-spiderly- possible, I need to commit, to use this time for good.

_ I can’t let them -and the whole universe- go at this alone, I can;t let them down. If I fail I will die for all likelihood. He sent me back because I am the only way! I can’t do this, I am only seventeen, but I am in a fourteen year old’s body! I am not nearly as good as all of the others why is it me who was chosen to do this! _

  1. Train
  2. Improve suit design, better web fluid
  3. Study

Should I do things proactively, let the world progress faster than It did? Get noticed as Spiderman earlier? Get the infinity stones away from Thanos and just in the fucking ocean or something?

  1. Take infinity stone?
  2. Be better Spidey

_ Oh god, I don’t know If I can do this! But it’s not like I even have the option, everybody is depending on me and my one god darned chance! It’s not my choice, but my duty. _

  1. _ Can. Do. This._

IM SPIDERMAN!


	2. Chapter 2

This new suit is magnitudes better than the first time around, looking less like a hoodie and more like a super suit. It’s coated in a transparent thin layer of a slight variation of the web fluid, which keeps it stuck together and looking far more like the suit Mr. Stark made for me.

I scurry around the walls of the city, just looking for anything to stop, especially something flashy that can establish spider-man as a hero. Cars speed on the roads of New York, people so safe people who don’t know of the impending universal doom.

People on the street look at me strangely whenever one seems to catch me with their eye, but all I can think about is how they will probably be dead in two years. I want to hug them, they don’t deserve to die. I’m barely out here for an hour before I find some violent crime, at least I know that my presence in the city is a positive one -unlike the daily bugle says.

A man points a concealed gun at a younger man in the middle of the sidewalk. The younger’s eyes open wide and he begins to breathe, his heartbeat increasing rapidly. Even at fifty meters away I can see the small welling of tears on his face, and hear the threats.

“You’re going to walk to the alleyway over there, quietly mind you, I will not hesitate to shoot you and everybody else around us.” The criminal isn’t noticed by anyone else, they just part like a washing stream and with about as much compassion.

“Ok, Ok I will” The youth whispers, swallowing down cries for help, “Please just don’t hurt anyone.” he looks around mildly, with his eyes darting within the field of view.

It makes me feel horrible, but I check the area for publicly owned security cameras, catching one on the corner they are about to walk past. When they are most visible I drop down from the traffic lights, Popping up on the ground in front of them with a flourish.

“You know a gun can’t compensate for everything dude.” I quip, looking the young man in the eyes before turning serious, “You better run kid.”

Everybody is looking at us now, a vigilante esque dude in a strange spandex suit blocking a shady man with a gun in his left hand. He just smiles while the crowd flees, knowing the trials and tribulations of living in new york and most obviously preferring their lives.

“Dumb fuck.” He grunts, and aims at my knees with impeccable aim, but I dodge quickly out of the way as his finger is closing down on the trigger. Something flashes in my mind, a need to show off.

“That’s not very nice, what if I wasn’t Spider-man?” I practically yell the spiderman part, so the lingering people with cell phones can hear me.

He reaches for his gun again and without hesitation I web it to the back wall, leaving the man confused and angry, but stunned into silence.

I flip over his head to land behind him, forcing him to turn around to look at me, “C’mon dude, you brought a gun to a knife fight! Isn’t that against the rules, we should be upstanding samaritans here!” I chirp, though my focus is not on the man but on the cameras, on the horribly loud people all around the city, the deafening lights and the blinding sound of the car honks. But my focus is brought back when I feel the ever too familiar sharp pain in my gut.

“Well you also brought a knife.” I chuckle weakly, smiling even though he can't see it through the mask.

_ I shouldn’t have gone out so soon, I’m so dumb. I’ll never be able to defeat a galaxy destroying monster if I go on like this! _

He moves to stab me again but I flip out of the way, quickly webbing him to the wall. “I’ll just leave you here,” I hear the sirens very faintly in the distance, “I think that nice young man you threatened has called the police.” He looks disgruntled at me but says nothing.

“Well you deserved it!” I take a piece of paper out of a pocket of my suit, trying to ignore the burning pain, “You did stab me after all, nice people don’t stab other people. I think that’s just a basic rule of life, don’t you?” I pin the written note onto his still webbed chest.

**Threatened other with gun**

**Stabbed me**

** **-Spiderman** **

  
  


-

“You need to go to sleep earlier Peter, I heard you up at 3 am last night. You’re a young growing man, and you’re still recovering from that terrible sickness too.”

“Sorry aunt May, I couldn’t sleep last night.” I mumble, grabbing another piece of burnt toast from the toaster -yummy-.

“It’s ok Pete, try to get some more sleep tonight then. I have to get to work, have fun at school!” She calls out from behind her, the door clicking shut when she leaves. I walk over to the bathroom to check on the stab wound left over from yesterday, because my healing powers haven’t settled and won’t for another week or two. Either the wound is a shiny new pink skin, or a horribly scabbed possible infected mess. A buzz shakes my phone.

**Ned** \- Are you feeling better Peter?

**Ned** \- I knew you were sick!

**Peter - ** I’m going to school today

**Ned** \- I was lonely without you

The webbing on my skin is red -not a good sign- but it still holds the wound together. I’m using the same webbing on my suit and my skin, as it doesn’t wear off and is stretchy. When I peel it off with super strength I see a scabbing wound. The healing healed over my organs, but hasn’t done anything to the muscle or skin tissue.

“This is bad” I grab some neosporin, a bit of gauze, and the webbing, wrapping it around the puncture. Hopefully this will work.

_ I need to sign up for the APs in may _

Grabbing the leftover toast from the plate on the table I leave for school, eating all I can in a desperate hope that It will speed up the healing factor. The walk to school is very uneventful, just another normal day. I get to school very early and make my way directly into the counselor's office.

“Is there anything I can help you with today?” Ms. Jones asks, looking up from a messy desk full of papers with a smile.

“How do I skip a grade?”

-

“Hey Penis Parker, why were you in the counselor's office. Did they find out how much of a delinquent you actually are?” Flash taunts, smacking me on the back in a way he knows will make me cough but looks innocent to everyone else. I grudgingly fake cough.

_ Went to her to ask how to skip a grade, because I’m really a sixteen year old in the body of a fourteen year old. I want to say, but simply lie. _

“I had to ask her about my absences Flash.” I take a completely civil tone with him, hoping to make him get bored and leave me alone.

“Are you getting kicked out of the school Penis, that’d be what you deserve. You’re such a looooser!” He chuckles, and I look around to see if Ned is here to save me.

_ All I have to do is take AP tests, and depending on how high I score It changes what grade I get to go to next year. I want to say. _

“Nothing is happening to me Flash, she accepted that I was sick and made sure to check with my aunt.” I state without emotion, looking up at him since I haven’t had to do in two years. Wait it is two years ago.

_ Hopefully community colleges will accept me in July. Because sure as hell the private ones won’t. _

“Really Penis? You have to get her to call your Aunt? Oh wait your parents are dead.” He calls out as he walks away, leaving me standing here mildly annoyed.

“Jeez Flash, guess you really haven’t gotten any better at insults.” I mutter to myself, shoving my backpack into my locker and slamming the door … A little too strongly obviously, because it bends the door. I try to carefully unbend it but it still ends up looking a bit crooked.

-

_ Everybody around me seems so young, I still care about them but everything just seems so wrong. Most of my classmates still treat me delicate, the knowledge that I saw my Uncle shot to death before my eyes is still fresh to them, even if it has healed over for me. I’m still just the kid who saw his uncle die, and I can feel how much I want them to forget that. Them making fun of me for thinking I was lying about a stark internship is almost preferable to this horrid burning gut feeling of frustration. _

_ Ned still is protective friend, worrying about me being sick or injured, like he hasn’t in so long. But everyone just seems so immature, I was almost done with my junior year and now I’m surrounded by freshmen. _

_ And Liz is here, I still remember the burning in my chest whenever I used to look at her, the butterflies that bounded around my gut. But now it just feels a bit creepy, she hasn’t even reached 15 and I’m on the cusp of 17.  _

_ And Toomes! Should I stop Toomes before or after the avengers find out about me, or in this timeline will they at all? If I stop him too early I could risk the timeline completely changing, so much that I wouldn’t have the upper hand in future events. _

_ But If I wait to stop him then who knows may be killed or harmed through the actions that I didn’t take. I should stop him when my powers settle. _

-

I put the last of my week’s homework in the drawer of my desk, not having done anything but since I came home at 2:30, its 8:00 now. I wish that I would get cryptic dreams of what Dr. Strange wants me to do, or whatever would give me any directions of what needs to be done to save the universe.

“Dinnertime Peter!” I hear called from the kitchen, and I trot over. Aunt May is cooking lasagna, which looks fairly good If I judge from the outside. It’s not out of the oven, but May gestures for me to set the table.

_ I need to contact Dr. Strange, but how. _

“Anything interesting happen today at work May?” I ask, sitting down after I set the pair of cups, trying to subtly not tug on the wound.

_ What is his name, If I just knew his name. _

“Nothing much, but Lavender still hasn’t asked out Melissa and their pining is getting old. What about you, do you have to do anything crazy to make up for your classes?” She asks, pulling out the lasagna when it looks nicely browned in the middle, but crispy around the edges. She grabs a piece of lasagna and digs in.

“Nothing much, all we did on the day after the Oscorp field trip was listen to lessons about the new world we are living in.” I grab a big piece of lasagna, but May piles the rest on my plate with a smile.

“That’s nice Peter, It’s good that you didn’t have to suffer for being sick. And make sure to eat up, you’re a growing boy.” She smiles proudly, and ruffles my hair from across the small table.

“I-” I hesitate by taking a gigantic bite of food and chewing quickly, “I am going to take the AP tests in may, I might go up a few grades.” I say quickly, returning to eating even more quickly.

“That's so impressive Peter, I always knew you were advanced. Ben and I could never keep up with the amount of books you wanted to read.”

“So you got me a library card and let me go there every day after school, I remember.” We both smile, but Aunt May’s smile takes a bittersweet sad tilt.

“I miss Ben.” She says in a nostalgic tone, and I grab her hand in mine, remembering the pain anew.

“I do too May.” 

-

When I return to my room I go to my laptop, keeping an ear out to hear for when May goes to sleep. As the laptop boots up I quickly check on the wound, which has healed into a tiny raised pink line.

_ Dr. Strange seems like a secretive guy, how am I going to find him. _

I search up magic dude, but only get pictures of Harry Potter, I search up wizard and also only get pictures of Harry Potter, I search up magic cape and also only get pictures of Harry Potter-with his invisibility cloak on this time.

I search up Doctor Strange and find a picture of doc, in a lab coat and all. It’s strange, but it’s him, the face is unmistakably him. He’s a doctor, is that a cover, is it before he got his magic stuff? Is it before he knows anything about this?

I write him a letter, it doesn’t give away anything, but I send it anyways.

**Dear Doctor Stephen Strange,**

**Please remember this in some way, but I need to talk to you in person. One day you will have a cloak, a sassy cloak. It is red, you will know what I mean when you have it. Write me a letter back when you do.**

**-Peter Parker**


	3. Toomes is dealt with

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker deals with Toomes, he fights him. That is basically it. I should write more story and dialogue based chapters for the rest of the story, but I like trying out combat.

My hands shake if just for a moment, the paper crinkles in my hand. Liz smiles, and across from the room I hear, overhear really, “My dad is such a pain,” I curse my super-hearing as I want to block this out, “Sometimes I wish he would die, you know. But afterwards I always feel so bad. I hate how much I love my parents,” Out of the corner of my eye I catch her pouting like the fourteen year old that she is, “God It makes me feel so uncool.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of.” Her friend tuts, and my gut clenches at the plans I hold for later on, even though I want to try to convince myself that that is only the gunshot I sustained last night, I know it is healed.

“Why am I not surprised that you would answer something like this to my truth or dare question.” Liz groans, “I was hoping for something scandalous.”

“Even If I did something scandalous as you hoped, I’d still find this the thing I am most ashamed of. My parents love me unconditionally and I can’t even return that? It makes me feel sick, like a sociopath or something.” Liz mumbles, and I want to cover my ears and scream to drown out these words but I can’t, I want to leave the room but I can’t, I want to die at the fact I cannot stop myself from listening in on this conversation that they are trying to hide no matter how much I try.

“No love in unconditional Liz, if that helps.” The friend says, and I can feel my mind counting down the days until June twenty third, until the day that Tony Stark will recruit me. No matter how much I want to stop the civil war between the avengers before it happens, a spot among the avengers is the only thing that will allow me to stop thanos in quite the same magnitude that I attempted before. February is so far from June.

“I want it to be, ok? I want to be such a good person that even if one of my parents is some horrible murderer or something I would still love them, not trust them, not like them, but still love them. Is that too much to ask?”

“A bit Liz, yeah. But calm down, it’s ok. You’re human but that doesn’t make you any less good of a person. Embrace the good and forgive the bad, right?” The friend hugs Liz for a few moments, and they both break away with large smiles.

Liz breathes out, “Thanks,” She mutters, picking up the tone of her voice and turning it chipper, “So what do you think about the chemistry homework. I really don’t want to write up the lab report tonight, I mean the chemical reaction for our project didn’t even work.” Without the relevant information my hearing seems to tone them out -thanks spidey sense of talk of my enemies, really helps-, and it almost automatically picks Flash out of the crowd and forces me to listen to him. I miss Ned, with him here the hearing likes to focus on him at least most of the time.

“Have you heard about Spider-man!” He says- near shouts at the boy next to him, Mam the Mineland Hobbs, “Look,” he says, nearly shoving his phone at his friend.

I hear a voice in the video only slightly louder than the ruckus around it, there seem to cars still honking around. The sounds are familiar, but in a way of the general sounds of new york being familiar, the voice is too loud to hear clearly, and too generic for me to tell when it happened. Sometimes the patrols on the night tend to bleed into each other, in a way that they never did when I just rescued cats out of trees, now I know where to look.

“Look, he just got shot in the side and just shrugged it off like it was nothing!” Flash shouts, and the lunch lady tries to shush him, “C’mon look how cool that is, He’ll be the talk of Queens one day, I know it!” I never expected Flash to actually find me sooner this time, down from a month to two weeks.

The lunch bell rings, and I seem to be the only one happy for that.

-

The area outside of Toomes’ warehouse seems large and intimidating, as if I start walking closer I will never truly be able to reach the door. It doesn’t help. Inside the sounds of the Chitauri cores whirring rings out horribly, sounding only a moment from explosion at any distinct moment.

I breathe out, and with only a few short steps bring myself to the door, the only way in this infernal research facility. Something burns at me, and without even checking I can feel that the door is locked with security systems. With a short few knocks on the hard surface I jump above the door, waiting for a person to arrive outside. I hear the soft footsteps of a man inside walking nearer.

The fact that I remember this man’s face as one of Toomes’ victims helps my psyche as I descend like a horror movie villan, jumping down without a sound to gracefully place a hand over the man’s mouth. I drag him to the blindspot of the door, webbing him to floor and his mouth shut. He looks at me with anger, but I only smirk guiltily.

I walk through the door, closing it behind me and immediately propelling myself up onto the ceiling, moving like a true spider. I watch from above as Toomes observes what seems to be the newest piece of shiny tech that he will sell. He places the vulture helmet on his head, and cocks the gun at an empty bottle, when he fires it causes the bottle to explode into a fine dust. The room hoots and hollers in excitement, nearly driving me to cover my ears with the ringing pain.

I place a small camera on the ceiling, attaching it with webs that stick the bulletproof glass that protects onto the ceiling. With a small button press the electronics start sending the video data straight livestreamed to youtube under my newest burner account. The microphone attached was the best one I could get, and I regret spending all the money on it, but it is the only one that should be able to pick up sound from this encounter.

Toomes must have no chance to get away innocent if he refuses to stop, I have no way to stop him if he just picks up and moves, if the police don’t believe me.

“Hey where is Jack?” The one I vaguely recognize as Herman shouts, bringing the attention of all to the absence of their teammate. I get into a battle pose, readying myself to knock the weapon out of the hands of Toomes. With a tap of my boot a small string of web starts to unfurl, letting me descend like a hunting spider on the unknowing.

“Bet he’s still out there taking a piss break or something.” Tinkerer mumbles, barely looking up from the pile of parts on the table that are glowing softly.

“I heard the door close.” Herman says, looking warily at the door.

“Must of locked himself out there, go check will ya?” Toomes asks, stroking his gun in an almost possessive way that will definitely make it harder for me to take from him later. I try to tear my thoughts away from his daughter, and her aspiring unconditional love.

“He would be knocking.” Herman says.

“Check anyways though, will you?” Toomes says, looking just at his gun, missing the resigned look of his underling.

“I will.” He says loud, walking to the door around the countess boxes. I can hear the footsteps leave the area. I know it’s my time to strike and try to swallow down all my reluctance. I hold my web shooters, firing a terrifyingly accurate shot at the gun, but Toomes is holding on too tight, and it just webs the gun to his hands. When he looks up I let myself fall to the floor, landing in the classic superhero landing.

“If you stop selling these weapons now I will leave you alone.” I hear myself say, my voice projected out in a way I hope deepens and masks my true.

“Like shit I will. This is my job.” He says gruffly, raising an eyebrow at me as he points the gun at me with an awkward position with his left hand on the side, but it will obviously work. I think he will use it to threaten me, but before I know it he fires, my body propelling me out of the way in an instant.

“Life wouldn’t be fun without a little surprise?” I choke out, my mouth running on auto right now as the shelf behind me fizzles into a pile of dust and ash, smelling like the mix of blood and an ashtray. Before he can fire again I feel the tingle on the back of my neck, and use it to backflip onto the shoulders of the man behind me holding a gun, sending us hurtling to the ground. I almost web him to the floor but my senses throw me away when Toomes lets out another shot.

The shelf explodes unexpectedly, exploding enough to explode through the wall and nearly kill the man Herman. I am thrown back into the wall support, knocking the air out of my chest. A broken rib pokes at me in a far to familiar way, along with the more common vague aches and pains. He aims the gun at the chitauri core closest to me, but it is in between us.

“That'll kill you too.” I mumble, as if patronizing him. Standing up quickly in a way that most likely didn’t help the buzzing in my head. I shoot a web at the core to send it flying to the wall, Toomes brushes it off and aims the gun towards me.

“Who are you, another random so called ‘superhero’ who thinks that the avengers are all that?” He looks me up and down like a cat to a pet rat, “Well you found me anyways, how’d ya do it?”

“I’m SPIDER-MAN” I yell, “And why would I tell you that”, I mouth obviously ‘Adrian Toomes’, and end with, “isn’t this enough?” The man tenses, in a way that he would hold his gun tighter, but the webs have already securely fastened his hands.

“So thats what, you are going to threaten my family to stop me? Fat lot you ‘vigilantes’ are, think you’re such a paragon of virtue, don’t you.”

“I don’t, but you would like the outcome more If I planned on threatening your family. You’ve hid this for four years, I plan on telling them.” I put my hands up into the air in a way many people view as surrender, but I know that this won’t prevent me from anything.

“I won’t let you.” He yells, and I just now notice how he never truly removed his vulture gear. My feet propel themselves above my head, narrowly missing the next hit that rapidly starts to disintegrate massive swathes of the floor.

I web sling myself around the nearest pillar when the spidey sense hits, but he ends up hitting the support I latched myself onto, sending me falling down to the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I catch the other men in the building rapidly running away, scared shitless for their lives and they should be If vulture ends up beating me in this fight. I know what Toomes does to people who flee.

“Hey!” I shout after I fall to the floor, eyeing the broken support that thankfully doesn’t send the whole building down.

“Why can’t I just hit you!” He growls, narrowing his eyes at me before firing another shot that I dodge far too easy.

“You never will!” I spout out with confidence roaring over me in waves, the bubbling laugh of how much easier this is then it was threatening to break out. I stand up trying to wash calm over me, “One last chance Vulture, we can end this peacefully right now.” I state, feeling so much more established than I am.

“No peace can be had, only war. You’re too far gone Spider-man.” He glares at me, and fires another shot at my feet.

“So are you ADRIAN TOOMES!” He just glares, a smirk coming over his face when nothing immediate happens, no reinforcements that he expects coming in to ‘save the day’.

He fires a few shots at me, backing up as he does. Within the blink of an eye I advance until I stand where he stood, dodging constantly without even a moment to fire a web at him to subdue.And then I find the chance, webbing him to the wall behind him by his legs.

“I’m sorry Toomes, but I can’t let you continue selling weapons.” I say, walking over slowly towards him, trusting the webs to hold him.

He stays a stoic calm, staring at me as I approach, but when I walk closer …. 

The room flashes as the gun is fired, and I dodge, only for the weapon to hit one of the cores on his workbench, and as my vision slows down I watch as the rest of them ignite as well.

Toomes and I are thrown like ragdolls, hitting the wall with what must have given me a concussion, but left him with what must be far, far worse. I stand up but hear a sound that haunts my nightmares. 

The ceiling starts to cave in. Sending a piece directly on top of us, and as my mind refuses to think my body catches it with screaming muscles. I hold it up to protect the out cold form of Toomes, waiting for the rest to fall.

Crashing, pain, guilt, and screams.

  
  


I barely manage it out before the police sirens arrive, holding the unconscious body of Toomes. They look at me, and I see them confused, but I place down Toomes, swinging away into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love if anyone wants to comment! There will be more interaction with the avengers and more story in future chapters, I promise.


	4. Stress and Deadpool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, writers block is hitting me like a brick wall but I still want to try to update at least something.

_ Thanos looks at me, dead in the eyes. His giant purple head causes my gut to tense up in fear, but I hold the time stone. I have nothing to fear. I can always just do this again, though the thought makes my mind twist into knots, the green makes me want to hurl. _

_ “Was it worth it?” His gravely voice asks, and my heart pains me, it feels like it is cannibalizing itself. Thanos gestures at the floor underneath me with the infinity gauntlet nearly full, only missing it’s infernal green. _

_ I look around, but the floor underneath my feet is piles upon piles of bodies, the bodies of Ned, Mr. Stark, May, and Uncle Ben are the first ones I notice. When I look back at Thanos I am only eye level with him because of the bodies, he is a giant that towers over me. I fall off the bodies, and force myself to look up at the being that easily surpasses fifty feet. _

_ I wail on the floor, crying over the decaying corpse of Aunt May, trying desperately to hug both her and the corpse of Ned. Thanos grabs the back of my neck to pick me up, and my body feels far too heavy to struggle. I can barely force my eyes to look at his. _

_ “They would have lived if you hadn't tried to save them. You killed them all, how funny. Your human whims are so destructive aren't they?” I try to scream, but he grabs my face to force me to nod. _

_ “And it was all for nothing.” He notes, and I look over to see him place the time stone into his gauntlet, I look down to see it missing from my hands. _

_ He snaps, and I am falling, falling, falling. I hit the ground hard, the only thing cushioning me being the pile of bodies. I try to push myself up, but an arm grabs me and pulls me down. _

_ “He killed us!” The voices whisper, dragging me under. _

All I hear is an infernal beep, unintentionally throwing the phone to the wall with the entirety of my strength, but it hits my hanging clothes and falls to the floor.

Fully awake now I pad over to that corner of the room, picking up the phone and watching the notification screen. I click on the gmail icon and it sends me to the app, bringing me up to an email tactfully named:

**You Have Been Accepted to Queensborough Community College**

But something prevents me from reading it, perhaps the rapid beating of my heart from the nightmare that hurts, maybe the acceptance can’t be processed in my mind. Maybe it is because of the clock.

It reads 2:39

  
  


I fell asleep at 2:13

But my mind will want never let me return to the world of dreams where I am vulnerable, the world of dreams where Titan is still happening at all points in time. The place where my rational mind doesn’t exist to combat the guilt.

I quickly retrieve the spiderman costume from the secret compartment in the ceiling tiles, donning it with practiced ease. The goggles comfort me almost on principle, blocking out the things I refuse to see about myself. It marks the twenty third of June, and something in me tugs with the idea that I will not be recruited.

At this I refuse to think, jumping out of the window to let myself swing for the second time this night, bringing the cool of the air to my burning mind. The nightmare still reverberates as well, each wrong movement bringing back Mr. Stark’s dead decaying betrayed eyes.

I quickly put down an amateur supervillain, who at the moment is just a kid with sadism and cyanide gas but might become more later. With these I web them and call the police, leaving behind ample evidence of their deeds. I have no mercy for them, no mercy for those who idolize the worst, for those who idolize people as Thanos. Little baby Thanoses.

I stop a handful of muggings, leaving behind piles of witnesses and webbed criminals for the more severe ones.

I hear the faint crying from far away and higher up than me that makes my stomach go into knots and drives me to their location at any cost. I spot a young woman -college aged- standing on the side of a bridge resolute but faintly crying. I talk to her for hours, spending the time until the faint lights of the morning where we have just dissolved into hugs and comforting. The sun rises and she thanks me, thanks me for being the only person that cared, thanks me for being the only person that she could tell this all to.

I offer to walk her to her home, but she refuses on the ground that she wants to talk to her friends, really talk to them about the issues she has with them.

I stop a speeding bus.

I take a cat out of a tree, getting scratched in the process. 

I stop somebody being shot with my own body, just a second too late, just a second too sluggish.

I help some lost tourists.

I stop an atm robbery.

I drown my anxiety under adrenaline, but all it seems to leave me is shaking and overwhelmed. So all I end up is nursing a bullet wound on the roof over the stand that sells the daily bugle, listening to all the stories that are mainly about me. The man who runs the stand -O’Brien- waves at me, and some visitors marvel at the sight of spider-man.

“What’d I do this week?” I shout out half heartedly, trying to carefully close the wound with the medical webbing. He throws a copy up at me which I catch, trying to ignore the flashing cameras from a few overzealous tourists.

“You’re in league with deadpool.” I see the photo on the front page, spotting the silly pose that deadpool is making, as he leans next to a graffitied spiderman on the wall.

“I am?” I ask lightheartedly, stopping for a moment to cough, “Well I hope he’s a nice guy, even with all the contracted killing. Is it because we dress similar?, because I think that red jumpsuits look better on me.”

“He wrote a message to spiderman on the wall of the alley next to you.” The tourists seem to get bored and vaguely spread out, but many still stay.

“What does it say?” I hold the medical webbing tighter to the wound, not wanting to disturb it in hopes it heals before I am needed.

“It says to call him, that his number is on your favorite perch or something. You can look at it yourself you know.” O’Brien goes back to selling the bugle for a few minutes, happy at the business that I am getting him. Is it betraying the avengers if I meet up with him?

“Nah I have a bullet wound, i’m fine but it still really hurts. Never saw the day though, when I’d get Deadpool’s number. He’s probably narcissistic or something.” I flip through the paper a bit more, catching some clickbait titles probably meant for the website.

“Maybe he thinks you’re as much of a menace as this says, they make you out to be almost as bad as he is.” I go through a moment where I remember both versions of O’Brien, how he used to hate me so much in the first runthrough.

“Do you want this back?” I ask, holding the bugle as I look at him.

“I have too many anyways, keep it, it’s the least the bugle could do for you. You practically made them a household name.” I flip through the sections once again, and there is a small paragraph citing a youtube channel of spider-man conspiracy theories, I will make sure to watch them.

“It’s not their fault, really. They want money they need headlines, and I am an easy target. Fearmongering is in the business.”

“What are you even doing out this early, I saw you swinging around before sunrise.” He tuts like a disappointed parent, and some more people have started to crowd around the area, I notice most of them are children.

“Crime never rests O’Brien.” I say proudly, wincing when I rustle the wound. It doesn’t and hasn’t escaped my notice how much more famous I am this time around, just by tackling the bigger fish earlier. Parts of my body ache in the memories of the superpowered terrorists that I ended up fighting, the thing that really gave me fame.

“But you should.” I glance around the area, finding a clock. It is 7:32am.

“I should be leaving.” I yawn loudly, and push myself to my feet, but I hear a voice that brings back memories.

“Look! It’s spider-dude!” I hear, and looking back I see Ned with excited wide eyes. The rest of the practically spider-man club group is there as well, such as Flash, Ned, Sue and Betty. I wave goodheartedly, trying to ignore how betrayed Ned was that I was leaving Midtown.

“Ned c’mon, it’s spder-man not spider-dude.” He looks up at me and his eyes go wide, “He’s waving at us!” He whispers loudly.

“Maybe I should have gone spider-dude, but I should probably at least try to be formal.” I yell, and the group practically squeeks.

Along with the constant whispers Ned shouts again, “Do a flip!” And so I do a flip, but just to show off I do two rotations in the air, sticking the landing at the end.

I quickly swing back to my apartment, climbing through the window and replacing the suit to the hiding spot. I walk into the living room, spotting a note from May about how she has double shifts, and won’t be back until after midnight.

For a moment I just stand, something burning of how nothing will ever be the same, something burning of painful nostalgia. I think this is around the day that I would be eighteen, but I never truly kept track.

But I am stuck in this body.

I grab some of the food in the fridge, before walking out to my room, redonning the suit, and swinging away. I feel myself gravitating to the one building in the distance, with nothing but my reluctance to stop me.

I stop a mugging, a shooting, and a robbery. I help a cat, an old lady, and a lost child. I see the last of Toomes’ gang, and dispatch them assuredly this time. But I can’t ignore the burn of the building on my eyelids.

I waste my time with tricks and acrobatics, dispatching people in the most ludicrous of ways. I do loops when I web sling. I fight a man completely while doing a handstand. I cartwheel down a building just because I can. I can feel my anxiety eating away at my senses.

Standing on the very top of the building I am far too often I see and hear far too much to be sane, focusing on feeling the gravel underneath my feet. Over on the other side is a piece of paper taped down, I know what it is. Tony Stark’s dead eyes look back from me from the pile of corpses. I can almost hear his engine blasters in the distance.

My body burns with almost fifteen hours of spider-manning in a row, indispirsed with very short breaks. My ribs hurt, my legs hurt, my arms hurt, and even my lungs burn with the exertion. Consequently I sit down and take the apple I grabbed earlier out of my bag, eating it in all of it’s near destroyed glory instead of acknowledging the letter any further.

I can almost hear the arguments of the people I left behind.Aunt May and Mr. Stark would tell me to avoid people such as deadpool. Ned would tell me how cool It was and how much I should do this. Mj would …. Mj would look into this matter more. Though I don’t have the luxury anymore to know what they would say. I don’t have the luxury anymore to refuse offers that could possibly help.

It takes a few minutes before I pick up the paper, unfolding the wet and crumpled pages. The focal point of the page is a giant phone number, followed by 

**Sorry Webs**

**Hired to put you in a meeting spot.**

**Still call me though?**

  * ****Deadpool****

  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter realizes who it was

My heart beats faster in my ears, and obscures my rational thought, all I know is that there is some sort of rocket coming towards me quickly. My spidey sense throws me off of the building, nothing would be able to convince me to look back when it will only make me slower. My whole body is numbed by the adrenaline.

When I find deadpool I will make him regret sending somebody with a rocket after me. Is he that much of an ass, or is he simply dumb?

A voice sounds behind me, but all that I can gleam from it through the haze is how much it reminds me of my nightmares. Halfway down the building I send a string of web out, the centripetal acceleration nearly breaking my arms, almost causing internal organ damage.

Did I meet any crazy people with rockets last time?

The rocket closes in, 500 feet, 300 feet, 200 feet. Once it reaches 100 feet away my fear takes over. I stop truly swinging, just using the acceleration to throw myself from building to building to building in reckless abandon. I feel my mind start to disconnect from my body, flashes of dark, horrible pain, a heart beating too fast. The rocket still catches up.

The voice is getting louder now, but to me it is getting no more clear, the volume only causing my oversensitive ears to ring even more, worsening the pain in my head. Every hair follicle on my body burns with the spider sense, every muscle burns with exertion.

All I want is to just lie down. All I want is to rest my aching muscles. I want to try to talk it out, I want to let go. I don’t want this all to be on me.

_ But I’d die. If I let go for even a second I’ll fall to my death. If I stop I’ll be blown up. If I surrender I’ll be tortured. If I die i’ll rot in the nightmares. _

I turn suddenly, trying my best to outmaneuver the pursuer, swinging closer to the ground, weaving through alleys and through to the docks. Noises increase in volume, lights increase in intensity, little sensations are rocketed to far above the threshold of pain. The very fiber of my being stretched to its limit. The web runs out mid air, propelling me straight forward into the air without anything to save me.

-

My vision still pounds, but awareness slowly comes back. I vaguely remember a rush of blackness. Hearing is muffled but I start to listen to the world around me. I can feel my back not against the ground of an alley, but in seemingly familiar metallic arms.

“Hey Pepper. I have found Spider-man.” His voice brings back painful memories, and I almost think this is a dream. But in the dream Mr. Stark always knows me, but is simply disappointed. Mr. Stark sounds neither. 

He pauses for a few minutes, “No I can’t Pep, this spider is out cold.” Another pause, “Well he ran away from me at top speed, what was I supposed to do?”

“Still no, what if he wakes up on the way there. I don’t want to drop him in mid-air, that defeats the whole purpose.” 

“Yeah of course this is worth it. He’s the ultimate reinforcement, nonlethal, efficient, and nice to a fault.” I crack my eyes open a bit in disbelief, only to really see the face of Tony Stark, faceplate down and everything. He pauses, I struggle to both close my eyes and listen to what Pepper says at the same time, I fail at the first and succeed at the second.

“You say that like a joke Pep, but he really does help old ladies cross the street and rescue kittens out of trees.” He looks down, noticing my opened eyes.

“Hey Spider-man, calm down.” I notice that I had grabbed onto the armor and started to make it screech, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He looks worried in a way that brings back all to familiar memories.

“What are you going to do with me?” I ask without really realizing, without realizing that Tony Stark is the one I’ve been trying to get to notice me in the first place. 

“Hey I’m not going to do anything to you.” He lets me down, and I gingerly stand up to the very loud protest of my legs. Mr. Stark looks worried.

“Then why did you hire Deadpool.” I spit out, casting a look at the roofs across from us. The worry erases to be quickly replaced with deep frustration and a tinge of anger.

“To fucking find you! I can’t fly around the city searching for spider-people, I have people to reclaim. This whole chase was long enough, why did you run!” The words hit me like a brick, of course. I check the web shooters that are still completely empty. But on my suit I have run out of replacements, maybe they fell off or were crushed when I was rocketing myself with only hope and acrobatics. 

Mr. Stark sighs, “How about we go back to the tower to discuss working together.”, crossing his arms like an angry parent.

“I’ll help you get back the rogue avengers if that’s what you’re asking.” Stark looks at me strangely, “And I ran …” I sharply inhale, quickly muttering “Because your thrusters sound like rockets and I enjoy living.” Mr. Stark looks a bit regretful but goes back to ignoring it.

“I don’t know how you-a member of the public- knows about this. But yes, that is what I was asking. I want you to fly to Germany with me to reclaim the lost avengers. And before you ask, I won’t force you to reveal your secret identity yet if you don’t want to.” He checks over his thrusters, wincing when he touches one that is obviously very hot.

“So you don’t know who I am.” I don’t really believe this truly, but it does make sense. He would have just repeated himself this time like so many others do.

“I know you are Spider-man.” His chin is tilted up in a proud way seemingly unintentionally. I look around and can see Midtown mildly in the distance.

“I’ll meet you at the tower, I have to go alert the person I live with that I won’t be here for a few days.”

“My roommate never would have cared.” He says like some sort of nostalgic dad of a friend, but also mildly disbelieving and analytical.

“Yeah well mine does, I’ll be there in an-” I look at my busted equipment and how far I am away from home, “Hour.” He looks at me strangely, but for once doesn’t comment on anything, turning around to fly back to the tower.

On aching legs I walk back to home, stopping along the way to convert the spidersuit into its form as regular but skin tight clothes.

-

I swing back to the tower, sticking to the window outside what I know is the lab. FRIDAY notices me, unlocking the window.

“Boss has been notified of your arrival. He requests for you to be sent to the common floor.” The elevator opens to which I enter. It strikes me how eerily silent everything is, how the only sound that can be heard is my own breathing, my own heartbeat, which my mind usually tunes out but…. didn’t. I try my best not to hear it.

I exit the floor to the sight of Tony Stark trying to look important, sitting in a suit with a glass of probably ludicrously expensive brandy. His movements seem calculated as he sits on a barstool. The very bar that is filled to the brim with the stories about Loki’s defeat right here in this room. I’ve heard him tell me some of them before, on the days he decided were ‘team building’ ones.

_ _ “Thank you for coming here with me Spider-man.” He picks up a clipboard and seems to prepare to write, “Can you answer a few of my questions?” I try to focus on the sounds of the clipboard to hear anything else.

“Yeah sure Mr. Stark.” I feel out of place in this room, when everything around me is so fancy and well put together, though I am in a spider suit with bullet holes I haven’t had the time to patch. The time I spend patching the bullet holes in the suit is time that I could be preventing them in others.

“Call me Tony.”

“No thanks Mr. Stark.” He looks like something just clicked in his mind, but I have no idea what that something is.

“What powers are you, what are the spider suit?” He looks expectantly, and It is another strange revelation on how Im not even remotely the same as the first time. He knew everything just about before he saw me, like an omniscient force that just could tell everything and know everything, but this time he just seems human. Does the suit look that much better?

“The suit doesn’t provide anything but the webs. It’s me that has everything else.” He looks like he is trying to impress someone, sitting there like he does when he talks to investors.

“Even the wall climbing thing?” In response to this I take of the glove of the spider suit, sticking my hand to the stool next to Mr. Stark. It lifts easily.

“I can make myself stick to things. Like glue man, but not made of dead horse.” I throw the chair in the air, before catching it by sticking to it with one finger. Mr. Stark just looks stoic

“Who made the webs, I trust it was you?” 

“Yeah, me and a chemistry lab together make up a true spider I guess.” I try to laugh but Mr. Stark stays serious, Its strange, he flashes me the same smile he does to all the people in meetings, to all the agents S.H.E.I.L.D. sends out that he just ignores, to all the people trying to tell him that he can’t be both ironman and Tony Stark.

“Why do it? Why be spider-man when you could easily be a mercenary or something.” He pours me a drink, but I refuse.

“Because with great power comes great responsibility. It all started I realized that I could have saved someone who died if I had just gotten the powers earlier. My mind beat me up over it, even though I logically couldn’t have any reason to blame myself.” I tap on the table absentmindedly, “But now, it’s because if someone dies and I could have saved them then it’s my fault.” but it’s the whole universe now just not some person, if any half dies then the rest will soon follow I know it deep in my soul. If I fail I fail everyone.

The universe rests on my shoulders.

“Still up for going to germany?” He makes to leave but then stops, looking with a cheshire cat grin, “FRIDAY, bring up the compilation labeled, ‘Spider-man is extra’.”

I marvel for a few moments on the clips of me doing unnecessary cartwheels, ballet dancing, walking on walls, and my favorite, many of me when I make the fists of criminals stick to me when they try punching. It’s all very showy -little action or threat- but it is interesting to see anyways.

“Yeah definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little worse than usual, but I was having writers block and decided that it might stop if i released one chapter of one of my fics


	6. Airport of Berlin, part 1

The private jet is stranger the second time around, Happy is asleep and I am just spending all my time patching the suit. 

I can’t shake how much it seems like they’re all trying to impress me. Happy is all polite smiles and serious nods.

I can’t shake how much I must have changed. I can almost see my past self nervously buzzing around like a hamster in a small cage. I can almost hear the tinny voice that I force myself to alter.

I can’t shake how nonchalant I am about this fight. I can’t get myself to worry about anything but the end of the universe, I can’t get myself to feel anything but that fear.

My mind reviews the protocol I’ve had for months.

  1. Let bucky/cap escape
  2. Show worth
  3. Get cap to trust me (tell of future?)
  4. Get rid of falcon midway through
  5. Target wanda?

No matter how much it hurts, I need to be able to get Captain America and Bucky Barnes out of the situation, even if it means playing off of both teams. They need to be able to trust me, because I need to know for the most part what the future will entail. And because I know Bucky Barnes is innocent. They would never conceded no matter what I did, so I have to reduce damage.

Never more have I wished for things to have been told to me, but even If I wanted to I wouldn’t be able to help anymore than I have. Though I know that I am magnitudes better than when I was at the same point last time, constant practice and paranoia will do that.

I managed to convince Mr. Stark to let me go after Falcon, because this is the one and only facet of my plan I am bound to. Hopefully without Falcon in the air for vision to miss Rhodey will never be hit by the rogue blast.

I wonder If I could rip the plane apart with my bare hands, I have never truly tried it but know that I can do far better than hold back the rain of rubble that I did months ago. 

I decide to do something other than pace around, so I start preparing. In order to not compromise the plane I web my hands together with a thick quantity of webbing instead of my feet to the floor. As my routine I do some acrobatics with my hands webbed, then pull apart the webs in an incredibly satisfying way that makes them snap.

When we land I silently go to the hotel with Happy, spending the rest of my waking hours stretching and training.

But I find the suit in the night, laying in the continuation of my hotel room. It hasn’t changed in the slightest, an unmoving beacon in such a moving world. The proclaimed minor update is far more minor than last time.

I put it on, noticing the lack of darkened lenses in the suit, so I just place my homemade ones over it.

‘Greetings Spider-man, would you like the suit on limited mode, or complete?’ Karen’s voice irks me, it is just a bit more british than it was the first time. 

“Complete mode.” I manage after a few minutes, and the suit flashed a bright blue on the screen that burns my irises, before the familiar interface reemerges.

“Hey k-” I almost say Karen but bite back the words, “knowledge bot can you please turn down the brightness of the screen?” The blue dims until I murmur agreement, “Can you also dim the suit eyes by the same percentage?”

‘Of Course’, and the suit’s eyes darken, leaving it manageable when I take off the goggles. 

‘Would you like to go through the training?’ when I nod she lists all of the web types, and nothing has changed. But there is a noticeable lack of instant kill mode.

“Hey can I name you, or do you already have a name?” I slip my web fluid onto the shooters of the suit. Storing packs upon packs all over the rest of my body. Especially the medical webbing.

‘I have no name.’ I move my limbs around to test the stretch, this one gives me far more freedom of movement.

“Can I call you Karen?” I test my ability to stick to things without the suit on, but I notice it is strong but not even remotely as strong as usual. I detach the suit gloves in a way I hadn’t learned until far too late in life one, replacing it with the faint incredibly thin red gloves of my homemade suit.

‘I would like that.’

-

I watch from the distance as they walk towards each other, though I am silent as a cat and perched like one. But as soon as Mr. Stark looks away I sneak off. Headed towards the main building where Barnes and Falcon are inside.

“Wow its so weird how you run into people at the airport don’t you think?” I manage to sneak through a door, climbing onto the ceiling and climbing fast. Even from this far away I can hear the voice of Mr. Stark.

“Definitely weird” Rhodes responds. I move behind the pair, not making a sound. Although the two are very distracted with searching for the quinjet, I manage to get in front of them but still on the ceiling..

“Hear me out Tony, that doctor the psychiatrist he’s behind all of this” Rogers pleads, I aim for the wings of Falcon, remembering the past effectivity, but quickly switch to aim to the mouths. I don’t want them to signal.

“Captain.” I hear the voice of Black Panther, right after the soft sound of him landing. With a quick noise I web the mouths of the two soldiers. Before the webs even hit I send a flury more at Barnes, coating him in the webs.

“Your Highness” I hear Steve Rogers say, so I know he has heard nothing suspicious. I launch myself at Falcon, knocking us both to the floor, although I get up sooner, pinning him to the floor. While he tries to get up I web the wings on his back shut together.

“Anyway, Ross gave me thirty-six hours to bring you in, that was twenty four hours ago. Can you help a brother out?” Falcon tries to flip us over to get the upper hand, but I had stuck myself to the ground in a way that makes me immobile. 

“You’re after the wrong guy.” I feel a tingle on the back of my neck, alerting me to the presence of the bird that thwarted me last time. I grab the metal contraption out of the air just long enough to crush vital components. I throw the thing across the room.

“Your judgement is askew. Your old war buddy killed five people yesterday.” Even though my gut twinges, I know this must be done. Even one wrong action could possible doom the entire universe. To get ahead now I must do at least a little fighting dirty. I stick my hands to his biceps, using my strength to pull the shoulders out of their sockets with a horrifying crunch. I hope I didn’t break the arms, but it certainly sounds like it.

“And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can’t let the doctor find him first Tony, I just can’t” In his distraction I manage to quickly wrap the dislocated arms around his back while my hands are still stuck to them. With a bit of webbing the arms are now pinned. I ‘accidentally’ web the microphone on my speaker just slightly.

“Steve you know whats about to happen. Do you really want to punch your way out of this one?” After a small moment Black widow appears, starting to talk to Rogers. Wilson tries to stand up when I move back, but I attach a web to him, moving him to the ceiling before covering him in layers upon layers of webbing.

“Alright. I’ve run out of patience, Spider-man!”, the world seems to slow down, and before I swing through the window I see Barnes barely restrained. “It’s in hanger five.” I shout before I leave just loud enough for him to hear. My finger goes over my mouth in a shushing motion. I ‘notice’ the webbing and peel it off during the flight. My stomach churns so much that I want to vomit.

I swing over, grabbing the shield as before from Captain America’s hands as I web them, but this time as I land I make sure the shield is firmly webbed to the ground. Cap and I both know that he can get out of that fairly easily, he looks at me strangely.

“Nice job Kid.” I just nod. My mortification from last life having barely worn off by now.

“You’ve been busy.” Captain America says, seemingly trying not to look in my direction.

“And you’ve been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint, rescuing wanda from a place she didn’t want to leave, a safe place. I’m trying to keep…” He breathes in, “Trying to keep you from tearing the avengers apart.”

“You did that when you signed.” There goes the smug look of the man who seems to throw a wrench into my plans, if only they never had a civil war.

_ I can change that next time. _

No there will be no next time. I can be strong! I can-

“Alright we’re done. You’re going to turn Barnes over and you;re going to come with us. NOW. Because it’s us.” He talks but my mind tunes him out, it burns it burns. I need to do this right or i’ll have to do it all again and I can’t.

I just can’t

“C’mon.” I hear Mr. Stark say weakly, which snaps me out of the haze. Something comes through the earpiece of Cap, but I can’t even come close to making it out. His face goes worried and stiff for the second before he composes himself.

Captain America raises his webbed hands, and the whip of an arrow is all I can hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love comments, and I'll try to make the next chapter more lively, though part of the bland is how Peter is trying to act so serious in front of the avengers that he sort of looses his endearing nature.


	7. Civil war part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-man fights the rest of the avengers, with some things changing and some going too similarly.

My spider sense goes berserk as Ant-man drops down from the shot arrow. I quickly and stealthily hit him with a web which sends him flying while the other people are directed to the chaos associated with the being of captain america..

“Alright Lang.” The world pauses for a beat, uncomprehending.

“Definitely not alright Cap!” I hear shouted from a mound a few boxes over. The compression those webs are putting on him now must hurt like a bitch. The world pauses, but not really. It slows down to where I can see the sluggish blinks of Captain America. But then everyone speaks at once.

“Ah Great. Alright there’s two on the parking deck, one of them’s maximoff. Gonna grab her. Rhodey wanna take Cap?” Iron man takes off. 

“Got one in the terminal. Barnes.” Rhodey says, taking off as well. It’s good that Falcon is still down. I can’t have him flying at the end.

“Barnes is mine!” Black Panther shouts, as he runs Captain America follows. They tackle each other right outside the terminal door. I can feel the guilt bubbling at how much worse he does this time around, the time where I deprived him of the shelter of his shield. I can’t help but feel a bit sick as vibranium claws tear into his face.

I try to swallow the nerves, the part of my mind that is telling me that if I talk too much that they’ll think less of me. That they won’t need me. I manage to make myself communicate, as any good teammate should, “Mr. Stark, Falcon is down. I’ll assist you”

“What? How?” He sighs, “Focus on Clint. I’ve got Maximoff.” I swing along with Iron man.

“On it.” I say somberly. Trying not to flinch as Mr. Stark fires rocket after rocket near the running pair. I focus on going faster, on getting ahead of Clint to take him out. I can see nothing but the goal now.

“Wanda I think you hurt Vision’s feelings.” I keep flying forward as Mr. Stark stops suddenly to talk. I fly forward enough that I know I am out of a field of vision for either.

“You locked me in my room.” I land quiet as a mouse, and start skittering on all fours over to the pair, making sure that neither notice me or care that I am here.

“First, that’s an exaggeration. Second, I did it to protect you.” I can feel the heartbeat of Wanda vibrate through the ground, it’s far louder than Clint’s. Clint is more hardened for this situation. Mine would out-beat both of theirs.

“Hey Clint.” I feel Mr. Stark’s eyes on me, even though his mask stays perfectly still. It would of ruined my plan for him to act as though he noticed me.

“Hey man.” Clint looks fully up at Tony Stark. I get into a position where neither can see me, but I can pounce.

“Retirement doesn’t suit you, got tired of shooting golf?” My memory stings. I remember something. Something that Mr. Stark was absentmindedly complaining about ane day. I feel myself talking before my mind reminds me how much that’s a bad idea.

“He’s going to shoot you with an arrow,” I whisper into the receiver of my suit, “ But he’ll miss. Don’t look, it’s to distract from Wanda.” I say as Clint says something about golf. 

Clint fires, and Mr. Stark heeds my advice, letting the arrow whip past him. I pounce before anything else can happen, using my own body as a projectile to slam into Clint. The hit knocks the bow out of his hands.

Mr. Stark can see the red of Wanda’s magic before anything happens, dodging out of the way from the rapidly falling cars. I try to web Clint down but most of the shots heavily miss, only hitting the bow. Clint tries to grab it but the bow is firmly stuck to the ground.

I try to web him again but instead of dodging like he usually does he throws an arrow at me. Without his bow. I dodge late, but the sharp movement can’t get me out of the way in time. It explodes near my face leaving me blinded for a few seconds, and when I look up they’re both gone.

Mr Stark flies away, but instead of following him I head towards the hanger where they were last time. A flicker of vision flying in the sky lets me know that I’m right.

Vision fires a giant laser down in front of the other avengers, “I know you believe what you’re doing is right. But for the collective good. You must surrender now.”, I land under vision as Iron man and Natasha do, the rest of the team following soon after.

“What do we do?” I hear ant-man say, looking anxiously at the leader of his group. The rest stand heroically.

“We fight.” Captain America sounds like he’s the American hero, but his words hit me wrong. Then they start to walk forward. 

“This is gonna end well.” Natasha mumbles, as we start to mimic them, starting out in a stride, then breaking out into a sprint.

Then we all collide, starting a mosh pit of battle where I start off by just standing at the fray and throwing webs at the enemy. Each person seems to have taken to duel another, but the other side is missing people. 

I notice Clint in the background, throwing arrows like javelins and watching them explode. I throw web after web at him, and he dodges, until I throw myself at him again. We collide, but this time I make sure we stick, using my strength advantage to tear the arrows off of his back and web them far away. To what I have no idea.

Wanda tears me off Clint with her mind powers, throwing like a tennis ball to somewhere far away. After a few seconds in the air I see something to web to, throwing myself back into the fray. I manage to hit the back of her without her realizing. Landing one good punch to her ribs. I feel them crack beneath my fingers before she throws me again.

Or at least tries, my hands are stuck to her arms with the entire strength I can muster. She ends up throwing herself along with me by surprise, she stops us in midair with obviously quick reflexes.

My spidey sense screams, and I use her body to rapidly rotate us midair. The red blast misses my ear, and I miss a few more. Then one hits, my arm screams and I can feel the blood coat the rest of my arm. I don’t dislodge my arms though, even If I wanted to I heavily doubt I could overcome the adrenaline fueled instincts that the spider part of me so helpfully supplies. I don’t even notice when my legs inadvertently stick to hers, I just can’t hear myself think over the spider.

She fires one at the hand I stuck to her left bicep, but I move it without thinking to her face. It feels like playing dirty, but I need to win this fight, I need to prove myself. She won’t dare fire a shot directly at her own face. Though she sustains countless of the after effects at firing at herself, she seems to think that If she hits me just once she'll get the upper hand.

She tries to pull us apart with her mind magic, but screams as it almost tears off large chunks of the skin on her face. Her control slips due to her pain, and we start to fall rapidly. I web sling us away from the rapidly approaching ground to land on top of one of the airplanes.

When I look back to check on her I can see red wisps that match the color of her now red eyes.

_ I don’t remember her eyes being this red _

_ - _

_ Uncle Ben is before me, and something is telling me that everything is wrong wrong wrong. But something changes and he isn’t really in front of me, but far away. He is across me but in the apartment, and seems to be scared. Looking at him hurts, but I don’t know why. Nothing really seems to be wrong. I hear another voice in there, deep and it makes all of my violent and unwelcome thoughts break everything. I push through the door and try to run to him, but it is suddenly too far away. As my lungs burn I run to him, but not fast enough. To push him out of the way I try to run to him. But he gets shot. I look around for the killer, but he is running away. I chase and chase and try so desperately to chase but I can’t. When I collapse I see the body of Wanda Maximoff. _

_ - _

_ I can see the Vulture, and suddenly I am trapped under the warehouse for the third time. My breathing slows, and then the pressure forces it to stop. But my arms won’t work well enough. I try to lift the rubble up but it just hurts me, just applies even more pressure to my bruised body. I scream for help, for anyone. Wanda Maximoff looks at me. This doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right. My mind hurts it hurts so bad. I have no idea who she is but at the same time when I look at her my mind screams her name. Her eyes widen. _

_ - _

_ I can see the people around Thanos, but my webs won’t get me there fast enough to help. Mr. Stark is fighting him alone, he seems to be getting injured but Thanos is not. Doc is on the ground at the sidelines, cradling some part of his side. My vision sharpens. I can see a horrible gash bleeding all over the ground. _

_ Mister Stark falls over but I’m not fast enough getting there to help him, he clutches a wound while Thanos looks at him menacingly. My hearing just barely catches the tail end of their words, but my mind burns a distraction away from the words themselves.  _

_ I clench my head as meaningless sounds rush over my head like a bubbling stream, each syllable hits like a drum stick on my head. My closed eyes seem to be doing nothing, I can still see the scene behind my eyelids. But something is wrong. _

_ “Stop.” I hear from everywhere and anywhere and right next to me, and it almost instantly stops the horrible pounding, replacing it with a feeling of rightness. Doctor Strange looks me directly in the eyes. My body screams at me to run but my feet are stuck to the ground with my own powers. _

_ “Spare his life, and I will give you the stone.” Strange sputters out, looking at Thanos as an illusion pops up before my eyes, a very faint and flickering copy of Dr. Strange. The copy turns to me, giving me the exact same look of seriousness the other one conveys. A thought pops up in my head and it is almost gone before I even have a chance to think it. _

_ Dr. Strange’s name is Steven _

_ “I’m so sorry Peter, remember that.” It whispers, so quiet that even I with the superhuman hearing can barely make out, and nobody else even pays any notice. He is sorry, I know that, but he will never regret it but he will regret it for the rest of his life but my mind burns and I scream. _

_ “No tricks.” Thanos demands, glaring at Doc as the man tries to hold out his weakening hand. Impatient, Thanos aims the gauntlet at Mr. Stark. Behind Mr. Stark Wanda Maximoff stands looking so smug. But I k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k--k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k--k-kk-know www she never got on the ship with us. _

_ “I’m sending you alone, it’s the only way.” The wraith disappears, leaving me to watch Wanda Maximoff. _

_ “Don’t” Doc groans, and summons a small green stone to his hand, it floating above his grasp before it floats over to Thanos. As it makes contact everything flashes green. And stays green. But when the green fades to only a very green instead of an opaque green I see that the stone is in the gauntlet.  _

_ “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” I scream out, and my mind screams along with me, a little piece that is rumbling along with my real thoughts and the instincts of the spider. Thanos grins at me. _

_ “It very much is.” But that’s not Thanos’ voice, it is Wanda’s. Thanos’ red eyes burn into my soul as he snaps. Everyone around me starts to scream, and when I look at them their organs are rapidly exiting through their mouths and wrapping around their necks to strangle them. Thanos looks around again, so obviously pleased, “And to think you could of saved them little spider.” Wanda looks at me. _

_ “So this is a nightmare isn’t it.” I scream out, and everything stills, “This never fucking happened and I know that!” I will myself out of here, and everything disappears. Except for Wanda.  _

_ I walk to Maximoff, “You’re using my memories to hurt me and I know it, but you were never there on Titan!” My mind is only bells and I can’t help but scream the everlasting hell out of my lungs. _

_ “You got it, this is a dream.” When she talks the bells end, “See I don’t even care enough to remember when or even where this happened.” , the bells increase, my spidey sense rings along with them. _

_ “I won’t let you forget it. I never will, the 27th of April, 2018. But you already know that, you’re just trying to taunt me.” My tone is biting, and I just hope she responds so. _

_ “So your mind wasn’t tampered with? You’re from the future.” The bells end and I flop to the floor. I can’t think. My mind is all thought out. _

_ “Ya ‘m from the future.” My burned out mind doesn’t do anything, so I just roll onto the floor and chuckle until my breath runs out. _

_ I look at her and she nods, but the fog around me ends. Wanda Maximoff has broken into my mi- _

_ - _

I snap back into my body before Wanda does, and kick her off of me. I notice too late that I didn’t control my strength, and she went flying at too dangerous of speeds for a human. Something tugs at my hearing. Probably just the casual rat or my own breathing.

I quickly web towards her, but she is going far faster than I expected. I manage to catch her with a makeshift net made out of webbing, but she is heavily injured. I set her down on the ground with the feeling of my stomach acid trying to go up my throat. It hurts to see what happens when I lose control, I want to take those injuries for her even though my heart burns with anger at seeing the woman who broke into my mind. Though I deserve them far more than her. I gave her those broken ribs, I deserve to have taken them instead.

“-der-man!” My distractedness ends suddenly and I can see and hear everything as normal. 

“Sorry Mr. Stark. Wanda got the drop on me but it won’t happen again. She probably needs medical attention though.” I speak, but it’s too casual, I need to stop speaking to the other Mr. Stark. It hurts that I know he doesn’t know me anymore. 

He actually stops talking to my surprise. “Hey Karen. How long was I out?” I ask, swinging to the jet bridge where Captain America was last.

‘Roughly one minute but exact values cannot be produced.’ Both men are covered in scratches like ones a cat would make, Black Panther indeed. Though Bucky looks far worse off. They look at me.

“Thanks Karen.” I mumble, before turning my full attention to them, “You look so strange without your shield. I almost shouldn't of taken it.” I can hear past Peter Parker talking, but this battle can be hardly compared to the last one. Last time I was barely more than a childish mosquito.

“Look Spider-man why are you on his side.” I quickly gesture for them to run to the hanger behind me, and motion my head to the jetway. The regret still washes over me, but I just let it pile on top of all the other things that rise guilt about what I’ve done today. I just need to remember that it’s all for the sake of the universe. If I fail half the universe dies, I can’t let that happen. 

Though it hurts me more than I can even imagine, the ends justify the means. This must be why Mr. Strange sent me back here, he used this guilt and why can’t I feel anger over it. 

_ Because his ends still justified my means _

“Mr. Stark said you would say that. Wow.” I send webs to each man’s leg, surprising them as I use it to drag the pair across the ground. When Cap tries to pull himself him off the ground I launch myself over there and deliver a solid kick. 

I land right under the jetway, and start to move again for the fight but stop. These men look far worse off than they did last time. If I fight them some more I can’t win reasonably, or they won’t be able to make it back to the hangar.

“Hey are you two alright?” I stand still under the jetway as to make it obvious what I mean. I see the recognition in Cap’s eyes. “I don’t want to hurt either of you, so can you please just surrender?”

With reflexes I didn’t even know he had left Captain America throws the golf cart like thing near himself at the leg of the jetway. I force myself not to flinch and to look distracted as it hits, bringing the jetway down upon me. I just let it fall, not even bothering to catch it. 

I see genuine regret in those eyes, but the presence of Bucky next to him seems to break him out of it, without any more words they take off running at top speed. I can hear the faint talking as they probably communicate with the rest of their team.

It takes a minute or two, but I manage to pick up the jetway even with the strange and inconvenient position it landed on my with. It would have taken me far less time if I had caught it on my feet, perhaps only a few seconds at most but that was not the point. When I get out from under it the supersoldiers have disappeared without a trace.

“Ok tiny dude is big now. He’s big now.” Rhodey speaks through the comms, and I look up to see the giant form of Ant-man holding Rhodey by the leg. I come swinging as fast as I can.

“Give me back my Rhodey.” I hear Mr. Stark shout through the comms, close enough to hear the much quieter and slightly quicker speaking without the comms.

Rhodey is thrown, and without Falcon to get him out of the way Mr. Stark flies quickly to catch him. I steal a glance at Vision but he hasn’t noticed the running soldiers, and hopefully he won’t in time. I swing over to Ant-man despite Karen’s notification about my rising heartbeat.

“Is anyone on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities they would like to disclose? I’m open to suggestions.” Mr. Stark deadpans, looking into the sky for some reason I can’t comprehend.

“Not really but I can try!” I shout, landing near the feet of Ant-man, not stopping for a moment to remember how uncomprehendingly stupid this is. I manage to stick to the sole of his shoe to my own hands, and while always having one foot stuck to the ground, I take off as quickly as I can. My heartbeat overwhelms my hearing, and I can’t manage to hear anything through the comms.

I think Rhodey and Mr. Stark get the idea, and as Ant-man wobbles they grab onto him to use their suit thrusters to push him to the ground. Ant-man falls in a final push over from Vision, landing to the ground with an epic thump. I watch as Vision flies back up to look around, only for the quinjet to blast off.

I guess nobody expected or noticed Steve and Bucky run off like that, not even Vision with how smart he claims to be. Nobody seemed to have gone after them, the tower wasn’t even dropped in front of their door. 

Iron man and War machine turn their thrusters to catch the speeding jet, but they don’t even get close. With it having such a big headstart they outpace the pair before their suits even have a chance of catching them.

I finally let myself fall to the ground and breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Peter being able to stick to hings is so underrated in this, like maybe him in the movie wasn't trained enough but still. If he's to have to proportional strength of a spider then he can stick to things with something like 25000 lbs of force. Sorry if this chapter was either boring or full of errors, but I wrote this in one sitting, and my mind is fried.


	8. Tony POV pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look at ton'y pov until the chapter before last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be another chapter of /Tony's pov coming. I'm sorry if this chapter is low quality, I was having trouble writing this part but the next should come easier.

**Spider-man**

**Age: Presumed youth, likely ~ 20-30**

**Height: estimate 5’7” - 5”10**

**Gender: Presumed male**

**Location: Likely Queens, Confirmed New York City**

**Identity: Unknown**

**Abilities: Super strength, Wall climbing, Acrobatics, Webs, super endurance, possible super healing**

  
  


“Hey Fri, is this all you could get on Spider-man?” I watch another of the many trick compilations, Spider-man seems to spend all his time doing something unnecessary. He seems to be showing off to someone, who?

“Spider-man is very cautious about avoiding cameras and other similar threats to his identity, sir.” Though my attention is torn, bragged back to the video.

There is a speeding car, about to drive out of control at top speed, it will crash into something. But Spider-man swings into view, and like someone picking up a cat, lifts the car above his head. Then he calmly walks away while holding it.

“How would I get him to help us though? There doesn’t seem to be any way to find him,” I muse, “Would he even go with us?”

“There is a high chance that Spider-man would agree, watch this video, sir.” On one of the screens nearest to me another video appears, this one filming the vigilante sitting on the top of a building

[ ‘Hey O’Brien’, Spider-man looks at the camera for just a moment.

‘What is it kid?’ The man asks, looking up from the busy newspaper stand, but the rest of the customers focus on Spider-man as well.

‘If I had to choose between Captain America and Iron Man I think I’d choose Iron man.’

‘What brought this to your attention. Some civil war between these avengers that us lowely public don’t know about?’ Spider-man cocks his head like an alien being, pausing for just a beat too long.

‘The public isn’t lowely, c’mon O’Brien. Nobody thinks that, all that’s different about us is that I have the ability to take the punches for everyone else. It won’t kill me when it would kill so many others, so I really have to.’

‘Spider-man. I’m not referencing you, the other avengers are the ones that act all high and mighty. I don’t want to be the reason you go in even more danger.’

‘The avengers aren’t acting high and mighty, they just have to focus on threats that are more dangerous. They don’t have the time to stop a mugger when they’re trying to prevent a pandemic.’

‘Don’t change the subject spidey, what made you decide that?’

‘I-I had a strange dream last night. The avengers were fighting and I didn’t know who to choose.’ he stands up seemingly to get himself ready to leave,

‘Isn’t that Paranoid?’

‘You may never know, O’Brien.’ ]

“That’s suspicious FRIDAY, check to see if there are any leaks to our recent files. I don’t think the public is to know about this yet.” Although he did just declare allegiance to us if that was the intention.

“Boss this video was taken almost four months ago. Before the accords were considered.” Then how was this, how?

“Still doesn’t answer how we would find him Fri” The video is really strange. A bit on the nose, a bit off. He’s hiding something.

-

“Boss, Spider-man has sent off the roof sensors.” This breaks me out of my work, the Spider suit is almost done, but lacks a few key qualities that can only be added with knowledge of what Spider-man actually… does.

“Deploy the suit.” I stand up and walk over to my own roof, and when the suit latches around my arms I fly off. Looking to the roofed building I had visited earlier today.

I get closer, and from the enhanced telescopic vision granted by my suit see the small red and blue speck lounging around the building. I fly closer to the building as he reads the note, then ..

Throws himself off. I turn my thrusters up to dangerous levels, rushing to catch him before he falls to his death. 

“Spidey!” He’s falling even faster, accelerating too fast, he’s going to die. I can’t let him die. What is he doing!

He throws out a web, catching himself on the building nearest with an arc that with all logic should kill him. His swinging is slower than my thrusters, so I end up nearing into his position. Spider-man doesn’t loose ground easily, resorting to throwing himself between buildings like some madman. I need to catch him before he does any danger to himself, what does he think I’m going to do to him though.

“Stop! I’m not going to hurt you!” He almost falls, but my thrusters won’t propel me fast enough. He manages to catch himself. He looks dead on his feet, the small nuances noticed by Friday from far away.

He tries to run through the suburbs but i follow, he tries to swing through alleys but I follow, he nearens to the dock without any semblance of a plan. His maneuvers do leave me in his dust, falling behind him just a little bit with every death defying turn, and every stupid decision.

But then he swings up again, trying to regain the building level, but he doesn’t catch himself. He just falls.

I don’t get there soon enough to catch him. It hurts to see the broken body on the roof like this. The hero so full of life just looks so dead. It doesn’t take much deliberation for me to decide to pick him up off of the gravel.

“Fri, full medical scan please.” He seems to be breathing at an accelerated pace, but that may just be a quirk of his biology.

“His body is bruised, several bones are broken, heartbeat seems accelerated but non harmful, blood pressure high, blood oxygen content normal.” I resist the urge to demask the young hero, it just seems wrong even if it could help me treat him.

“When will he wake up Fri?” The hero is too light, in a way that subconsciously makes me want to hold him tighter to my chest, but I stay wary of his injuries. As well as I don’t want to scare him off more than whatever was in Deadpool’s note already did.

“Spider-man should regain consciousness within the next few minutes, his medical report does not denote long periods of unconsciousness, unless he is unconscious in the typical sleep cycle.” I notice that if I look close enough the suit is made of a shiny outer material, something strange for a vigilante.

-

Cap won’t listen, and I think I know that. I take a deep breath before calling, “Alright i’ve run out of patience. Spider-man!” I look up to the perch where I told Spidey to wait, but I don’t see a stir. 

_ Was he taken out? Did they get to him before the battle could even start! Is he dead? Did I just lead to his death? He’s probably just in college, just a kid. A twenty something, too young to be fighting. _

But all at once something red arrives like a bullet train, nearly knocking Cap over as he webs him up and takes the shield. Cap glares at him for a moment while I try to get my mouth to respond to the words I want to say. But how can I, he’s spotted with blood. He’s wearing a bastardization of the two suits he has.

“Nice job kid.” I manage, hiding my worry like I always do. Spider-man is somber and quiet. I try to focus back to the friend i’m loosing, t-

Wait

Spider-man is somber. Spider-man is never somber. He’s described as an unstoppable chatterbox.

I feel my mind dragged back to a video I watched on the plane here, a short video that FRIDAY brought up as evidence of Spider-man’s eligibility.

[  “Why are you asking me about spider-man?” The criminal glares, but doesn’t seem to go hostile. He just sits in the interrogation chair seething silent rage.

“He is a criminal to the NYPD, just as you are. You could get a shorter sentence on leniency if you just comply Mr. Harrison. It can be up to five years for bank robbery, right? And you were armed.” The policeman leans onto the table like one trying to imitate a teenager. The over thirty year old across from him is not amused.

“No way I’m ratting out Spidey. He doesn’t deserve it.” Mr. Harrison sits straight up in his seat, clenching his mouth shut. The policeman lets out a large sigh.

“He is a criminal now, Mr. Harrison. I like him as much as you, maybe your sentence could change how the rest of the police view him.” The criminal stays steadfast in his seat, mouth unmoving, “Please. Perhaps your testimony could make the difference.”

“This is because I owe him. While me and my group were robbing the bank Spidey showed up, talking and talking. Allison’s goons bolted, but Allison herself stayed. She must’a shot him four, five times to stop him from going after the goons. But the incessant chatterbox never shut up, it was driving me mad.”

“And-”

“As I was saying, Spidey never used any kind of force to subdue us, even as he was shot, even though he can lift up a car or something. He would just try to get the drop on us by banter. He webbed her to the wall, but she kept shooting. He tried to dodge, and the bullet hit me. I went down, obviously.” He breathes in, “And for the full however the fuck long it takes you slow bastards to get to us he tries to help me. He uses some webbing and once he can’t do anything more he just talks to me. He never stopped incessantly talking and I think I would’ve blacked out for good if he wasn’t. He apologized even, for dodging out of the way of a bullet, over and over and over again. I felt horrible, like I broke the guy.”]

_ Spider-man must hate me, for whatever reason. He must, nobody’s ever seen him so … cold. It makes him seem like … like a killing robot or something. It hurts. To know I’ve done with my carelessness something that nobody in the whole of new york has ever. _

“You’ve been busy.” Cap says, staring me dead in the eyes. He is so uncaring about it, like some horrible cat. I can almost feel the presence of Spidey behind me, perched. I try not to think about that mistake, and focus on the other.

“And you’ve been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint, rescuing wanda from a place she didn’t want to leave, a safe place. I’m trying to keep…” I breathe in, “Trying to keep you from tearing the avengers apart.” It hurts. 

“You did that when you signed.” There goes the smug look of the man who seems to throw a wrench into my plans, if only they we had a civil war. If only Cap wasn’t such a smug uncaring bastard!

“Alright we’re done.” Dejection seeps into my own voice, “You’re going to turn Barnes over and you’re going to come with us. NOW. Because it’s us.” He won’t listen and I can feel that with how he looks down, “Or a squad of J-SOC guys with no compunction about being impolite.” I just can’t convince him, I never will but my stupid self wants me to try, “C’mon.”.

Captain America raises his webbed hands, as an arrow rips through the air, tearing off the webs. 


	9. Tony POV pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see through Tony's eyes for the second half of the battle of the airport (or most of the airport battle idk how to classify.)

I snap around at the sound of webs, to see Spider shooting one off into what looks like blank air. Is that an intimidation tactic?

“Alright Lang.” Cap looks so smug, I just want to punch that off his face. I start looking through the infrared for the backup. I start to catch a trail of warmth in the buildings.

“Definitely not Alright Cap!” I hear shouted from the distance I take a quick look at the mount of Scott Lang and webbing. Spider-man must be ridiculously skilled, how else would he have hit the man at ant size. Let alone see him. I go back to the infrared and see the pair running.

“Ah Great.” I make out the vague form, “Alright there’s two on the parking deck, one of them’s Maximoff. Gonna grab her. Rhodey wanna take Cap?” I liftoff, casting a glance at Steve himself, before focusing on Rhodey.

“Got one in the terminal. Barnes.” Rhodey says, taking off as well. 

“Barnes is mine!” Black Panther shouts, Rogers and himself tackle each other right outside the terminal door. Claws tear through the skin of America’s so called perfect solider, leaving behind a gruesome sight. This never would have happened if Cap didn’t insist, even though … 

“Mr. Stark, Falcon is down. I’ll assist you” I snap out of it, looking down to the basically a kid who I brought into this fight before I realize what he said. The efficient, the merciful, the turned quiet, the twenty something whose experience is beyond what records claim.

“What? How?” I sigh, turning off my brain is something I should do, “Focus on Clint. I’ve got Maximoff.” I follow the little red specks, listening to the rhythmic ‘thipt’ of Spider-man swinging along beside me. A red and blue mystery.

“On it.” He just states, emotionless, too stoic. I start to fire rockets at them to slow the pair. Spidey passes me, launching himself beyond us all as Clint and Wanda stop, shielding themselves from flying rubble.

“Wanda I think you hurt Vision’s feelings.” It nearly gives me shivers the look Wanda sends my way, nearly. It makes me stop in the air to talk to them.

“You locked me in my room.”I try to resist looking at Spider-man when he is trying to be sneaky, a little terrifying skittering spider across the rubble..

“First, that’s an exaggeration. Second, I did it to protect you.” Hopefully they forgive us one day, hopefully some day I will never have to watch the visible wrath emanate from those I care for.

“Hey Clint.” I steady my face as I flicker my eyes to Spidey, who matches my gaze. I can nearly feel the ruthless efficiency, as if he’s scared, adrenaline filled, can’t focus on anything. What does he do that banter for if not due to anxiety, is he trying to endear himself to others?

Who is he?

“Hey man.” My mind is dragged out of a pit of thoughts as Clint looks fully up at me, the Tony Stark. Clint is pulling back on his bow, readying his shot. I hope we don’t escalate to combat, but that chance was astronomical to begin with.

“Retirement doesn’t suit you, got tired of shooting golf?” I quip on impulse, my mind trying to calm itself when I realize how much I don’t like the combative tension. 

“He’s going to shoot you with an arrow,” A whisper echoes through my suit, something surprisingly different than what I’ve heard before but still undeniably Spidey. The sound has some emotion tinting it, “But he’ll miss. Don’t look, it’s to distract from Wanda.” I can’t hear exactly what Clint is saying over the blaring of my own deductive reasoning screaming and trying to hear the whisper.

I watch the bow-man-with-a-plan for the moments of tension, and as sure as the sun is Clint fires. Resisting my gut instinct I allow the arrow to fly past me, staying clear enough that I know it is an aim thing instead of an accident. My eyes are locked on Wanda as Spidey launches himself at the archer like a tarantula.

Wanda’s magic burns red, levitating the cars from behind me in a vague attempt to hit me out of the air. Many of them I hit with repulsor blasts, but the rest I just allow to fall on their own. The cars pick themselves up into a storm, a tornado almost as it attacks from every side. She manages to knock me out of the air with the force of at least fifteen cars. It becomes more difficult to breath as the suit is unable to maintain under the enormous pressure. 

I start pushing myself out of the pile as my suit creaks and protests, but the cars eventually let me free. As I struggle I keep half an eye on the other fight, Spidey trying to go on the offense with webbing as Hawkeye is on the defense. I manage to get out as the arrow explodes in his face, I pause.

Queen’s spider is simply frozen, not falling over but frozen. I feel myself frozen as well, looking as my mind tries it’s hardest to tell me about how he will never recover, how I caused all of this. I know it’s not true, I know it, I know that I didn’t just kill him, I know … right?

It isn’t even consciously my decision to immediately fly away when I see him recover, going over to the scene of a large explosion. Everyone seems to have fled except for Rhodey and Natasha, I help up the other spider off of the ground.

“Is this part of the plan?” She looks at me, with all the anger of a warm beer but the potential for fighting. The fires smolder around the two of us as Rhodey takes off.

“Well my plan was go easy on ‘em” A plan the other side certainly hasn’t followed, as shown by Wanda and the current fires, “You wanna switch it up?”. She nods, and I look up around for the enemy, which seem to be gone.

“Hear that?” She asks, motioning up to the sky, and the sound helpfully is replayed by FRIDAY in my ears. The unmistakable sound of Vision’s lasers. We take off, landing next to Spider-man on the ground underneath vision. Rhodes comes right after us, carrying Black Panther. I look over to the other team to the sight of spider silk coating every single one from head to toe except for Wanda. Falcon is gone as the spider has claimed.

“What do we do?” I hear Lang say, looking anxiously at the leader of his group. The rest stand heroically. I look around again for a sign of Falcon, but he is gone as if he never showed up here in the first place.

“We fight.” Captain America sounds like he’s the American hero like he’s all that. He sounds like exactly who Howard told me he was, cold and ‘patriotic’, it sends over a bite of anger. Then they start to walk forward, each step seeming so much more purposeful than it is, a clear intimidation move. 

“This is gonna end well.” Natasha is quiet as always, starting us off on our counter, on our road tro the true combat. We speed up, with the flying members of our group doing just that.

My mind notes each person’s position methodically, Spider-man and Hawk-eye have take their place assisting the other teammates. Rhodey and Natasha have seemingly teamed up against ant-man, Wanda and Vision are circling each other in something resembling a dance. Though the most violent of them all are Black Panther and Barnes, throwing themselves at themselves and landing hits like crazed beasts running on adrenaline.

I launch myself at Cap, but he dodges. His shield is still missing, but he grabs my arm and tries to flip me, when I resist Rogers takes that as an opportunity to throw me in the other direction using my own force. I quickly recover but in that time he has started throwing anything and everything on the ground around himself at me.

Cap has gone ranged, using his strength to throw objects and relying on the assistance of Hawk-eye to prevent my blasts from ever landing. Through when Rogers tries to suckerpunch me I manage to land a hit onto his chest. 

The support from Clint dies down, leaving me at an advantage in the fight against him, landing hit after hit when he can’t make use of his shield to block. Cap goes full melee now, trying to target the seams and joints of the suit where he knows there are chronically weak points. 

I look over to Spidey to watch as he gets thrown by Wanda, but Cap uses this distraction to land a few hits, damaging the wiring of FRIDAY to the rest of my suit. I stop for a moment almost on instinct, and with the help of Hawk-eye who has appeared from nowhere they manage to throw me to the ground. With a sharp look upwards I notice that they have escaped from my view.

Looking around more is important, Natasha has disappeared most likely to go after Steve and Clint, Rhodey is firing blast after blast most likely trying to hit an ant sized ant man. Bucky and T’Challa are tearing each other apart, with T’Challa winning if the claw marks have an indication. Vision has risen to the sky, probably looking for who I search for now. I manage to spot Webs and Wanda on top of an airplane, surrounded by all to familiar red wisps.

“Webs! Avoid Wanda!” I hear myself shouting into the comms, but it burns my own throat to say. I start flying to the pair, both unconscious, with my telescopic vision I notice the injuries that coat the both of them. Webs must be more powerful than I thought.

“Spider-man are you alright!” I shout, and the body starts to move, slow and lethargic until it snaps like a rubber band. He kicks Wanda off of himself, which sends her flying far too much for a kick. The kid slings after her with just slight hesitation, but they are flying far too fast for me to catch up to them.

“Spider-man! Are you ..” He must have been subjected to her mind powers, but I can’t be sure if he broke them off, “Are you under her control!” I get no response, but Spidey makes a giant web to catch Wanda, letting her make a slow acceleration.

“Spider-man, did she try to mind control you?” I land next to the pair, and vision soon follows, but Webs acknowledges neither of us, “Spider-man are you alright?” Vision takes off with Wanda in his arms, “It’s ok, you can stop fighting now Spider-man.” We need him but the guilt burns too much for me right now, we’ll just have to make do.

“Sorry Mr. Stark. Wanda got the drop on me but it won’t happen again. She probably needs medical attention though.” It hurts like a punch to the gut for a reason I can’t fathom when he speaks like he’s talking about the weather, before he slings away seemingly without noticing I was behind him.

I fly back over to where I was before when I feel the impact of something on my suit, when I look around I see that it was a rock. Clint threw a rock at me, I know because I look down at him running away from the scene. With frantic searching I note there are no traps that he was trying to distract me from.

I try to blast at the nearby carts, trying to lure out Clint but the blasters don’t respond, “Friday?”

“We have some weapons systems offline.” That really shouldn’t be possible, even with the connection issues with FRIDAY that started earlier the other fail safes should have made this a non issue. What happened? How! 

“What?” I nearly scream in my mind, letting myself land incase the other systems go offline as well so I don’t end up crashing towards the ground.

“Oh you’re going to have to take this into the shop.” This must be the one responsible for the damage to the suit.

“Who’s speaking.” The voice is very similar to ones I’ve heard before, but at a far higher pitch. I have no dea how and why he’s s talking to me.

“It’s your conscience, we don’t talk much these days.” It has to be Lang, that voice seals it. He has to be small and in the suit. So I do what comes to me in a flash.

“Activate fire suppression system.” My suit overwhelmed itself with a thick CO2 gas, and I start to review the systems for at least a few minutes, without these I am useless. I have to force my mind onto the task at hand instead of the raging -or slightly simmering in different encounters- fight all around me. I find myself looking up more than once at the young man that I dragged into this fight, who is taking on both supersoldiers at once.

“Ok tiny dude is big now. He’s big now.” Rhodey speaks through the comms, and I look up to see the giant form of Ant-man holding Rhodey by the leg. I start to boot up the thrusters as fast as I can, letting the rest of the mechanics to reaffirm themselves in action. Ant-man starts to throw Rhodey.

“Give me back my Rhodey.” I shout, flying full speed to try to catch my oldest friend before he collides with something dangerous. When I catch him we start flying around the giant man, though having little affect.

“Is anyone on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities they would like to disclose? I’m open to suggestions.” I let my voice stay monotone, and the paranoid part of my mind can’t help but search the sky for a secret Falcon.

“Not really but I can try!” I heart this from the comms of Spidey, who just landed near the feet of Ant-man, preparing to do something. He ducks under Ant-man’s foot like a madman, standing straight and holding it up as if to prevent being stomped on like a spider. He then runs, and the foot goes with him. The most exceedingly stupid and brave thing that I have seen all day, Rhodey and I share a look before we go to assist.

Using the combined power of our suit thrusters and the microrobot thrusters who help us push him over we are about to succeed, for Vision to deal the final knock down. Before the blaring success even starts the Quinjet takes off, and none of us over here had even noticed, not even vision.

Rhodey and I speed off to the flying Quinjet, but it has already achieved a speed faster than the suits can handle. We have won the fight but lost the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this! I try to release new chapters as much as possible, I promise. I hope I didn't overdo Tony, but trust me I tried my best.


	10. Spider-man goes home

“You ok Spidey?” I hear from above me, opening shut eyes to see iron man kneeling next to me. I-I think I passed out. I try to push myself up but my body protests too much to.

“Feel like I got hit by a truck.” I pause for a moment, managing to push myself into a sitting position, “More like a truck fell on me.” I yawn, and flop back down onto the floor.

Mr. Stark pauses for a few moments, “You did a good job out there.” I spy vision and Rhodey looking over Ant-man, Wanda, and Clint. They all look thoroughly beaten.

“I sure hope so.” I know my injuries can heal faster than theirs, I know that Rhodey and Mr. Stark are just normal humans, I know that Vision does not want to hurt the girl he loves, I know that T’Challa is just lashing out in grief, I know that Natasha is just pushing at the limits of a very human body, I know that better than they know it themselves.

“We could use your help in the future,” I let my eyes drift shut, which unintentionally intensifies my other senses and forces my body into a tense position, before I even know it i’m in a frog like position ideal for jumping. The adrenaline must not have worn off.

“Not telling you who I am if you’re asking that.” My face flushes under the mask in embarrassment at my stupid actions, so I push my heavily injured body to perform a flip. I can’t seem to be a serious person even if I try.

“Why not, we won’t danger your secret identity in any way.” I let my eyes focus on the still unconscious Wanda, the pained Ant-man, and the injured Archer. I let my eyes force guilt into my mind with just how much Vision and Rhodey are trying to tend to them.

“I-” my mouth threatens to talk like the earnestly stupid younger self that I was, physically forcing myself to say fewer words, “I wasn’t worried about that.” Clint gives me an indecipherable look that I try not to focus on, looking at the equally indecipherable look from my former mentor.

“I can try to help whatever you’re worried about. We won’t force you away from Queens, you can still help the people if that’s what.” Something about this screams at me to take off the mask, to just trust and give into that. My mind just wants me to be passive, to break down and cry about how much I missed him and my family and the friends I left behind who are just so so, just so much too slightly too different, they just feel off. 

He looks at me when I don’t respond, the look when he greeted me the first time after the ferry and the first time with Toomes, “C’mon Kid, you’re making me feel like I did something wrong here.”

“Kid?”

His face softens and I realize that I squeeked that out without realizing, before starting into a weirdly fond tone “We both know that you are a college aged kid, you weren’t really fooling anyone into thinking that you were more than a couple of years out with that degree.” That acceptance email weighs heavy in my mind.

“You barely know who Spider-man is and how good he is at fighting,” I breathe in harshly as my mind both screams that this is too much and too little, that everything I do is wrong, “for all you know this was just a fluke.”

“It wasn’t,” I interrupt Mr. Stark before he can continue with a hand.

“Humor me.” because my mind surely doesn’t, “I want you to know who I am when fully know what to expect with me as Spider-man” I try to ignore how much part of me tells me this is irrationality from memories that will never repeat.

“We trust you Spider-man, and I certainly do. I can’t see how I shouldn’t trust someone who has done so much for the people.” He chuckles a bit, “I don’t even think I said thank you for stopping the weapons dealers, I saw their plans of stealing my tech to make weapons.” Toomes face is burned into my mind, my nightmares too.

“Please trust me in this.” I force myself to swing over to the airplane, but we’re close enough to talk still, “Three more things. I’ll leave the spider-suit at the hotel. You’re going to fly me back right?” Mr. Stark nods, “And Falcon is on the ceiling of the airplane terminal, I webbed him there.” I move to return to the hotel that if I squint at I can still see. Looking at the metaphorical separation, the thing I am using as a barrier to drag and force.

“How will we contact you Spidey?” I look at him and he is obviously restraining himself from saying something, and that almost distracts me from the question.

“I’ll give you my phone number.” My mind catches up to my past self after the words have left my mouth, the secrecy might be broken. Everything ruined because I am so damned stupid. But I-I can look back on and see all the other mistakes that haven’t lead to him knowing who I am. He could have so easily. I am just the one who thinks too highly.

“You tell me not your name, but you’ll give me your phone number?” He looks skeptical, so I swing over to land just in front of his face for the extra pizzaz. The last months of showing off have rubbed off on me. 

“If you wanted to know who I am that badly you just could have put cameras in the hotel.” He sees what I am motioning and gives his phone to me so I can enter myself in as a contact and with a last few clicks I say, “And anyways, I trust you.”

  
  


\--

Happy looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention, and I wouldn’t notice with how fleeting and regular the looks happen to be but my neck burns at me whenever somebody looks my way. It’s a bit under twenty minutes until the plane lands but I can feel every minute of it.

I can’t sleep, my brain is still humming with the adrenaline, with the daytime nightmares. I can’t exercise, my injuries are still healing, and I’m pretty sure Happy noticed how much less gauze there is in the medkit he gave me. I can’t play on my phone because I forgot to bring a charger. And I can’t talk to Happy because everything about me seizes up when I try.

So I just sit there and let the memories come flooding in.

  
  


\--

  
  


May is gone again when I get home, a note on the counter is the only thing that seems out of place, but I avoid it to instead retreat to the bathroom. Though something stops me, makes sure to check the rest of the house. There is no sign of break in, there are none of the electronics triggered.

I walk into my room to give that room the most scrutiny, but I notice nothing as off. The fake spiderwebs on the outside of the window have not been moved or removed. I see no fingerprints or definite marks of intrusion.

So I open my computer, and pull up the hidden program that searches through every web mention of Spider-man. I read the ones marked under suspicious and notable because I don't have time to sort through piles upon piles of other ones.

The bugle has run a story on how spider-man is ‘slacking off’, various message boards organize to search for me, but at the moment none of them has connected me to germany. Which is good in a way.

This all leads to my own feet dragging me back to read the letter. It just sits there on the counter, the only thing that has changed since I left but I in many ways don’t want to see it.

**Hey Petey**

**It’s so nice that you got into Queensburough! What a fifteen year old nephew, more than I could ever ask for. Please tell me a bit more about where you’re going next time (I get it, you were too excited). I am working the long shift at the hospital right now, I left food in the fridge.**

**-May**

I pad over to the bathroom on aching feet, with burning eyes and a pounding headache. When I take the bandages off to the same motley of reds, blues, yellows, and purples my heart falls. I press around on my chest but note the only thing healed was my cracked ribs. Each movement makes it look infinitely worse, but I don’t think there is anything I can do that would help much, my healing will just make this useless anyways.

The fact that Aunt May won’t be back for hours drives out the last bit keeping me from the streets. I do have unfinished business after all.

I replace my phone battery with the charged spare I keep around right before I take off into the city, slipping the phone into the inner pocket of my suit. 

I swing around the city without seeing any crime, so I just to an alleyway that I go to far too many times. I take my place hanging upside down while taking out my phone to respond to deadpool. 

A strange pounding clears the edge of my hearing, and starts to increase in frequency. Adrenaline pulses through my body, pushing me into a ready position though I see no bomb. There isn’t any foul technology. But deadpool is there, the only thing wrong in the area. 

Wait.

W-wait.

Deadpool is right there, I can hear his heart beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant this to be longer, but I was kinda unable to actually write the second part of this ,so I split up the chapters and I hope that it's ok


	11. Heroes come in pairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool and Spidey collaborate for the first time.

“Hey Webs! You didn’t call me, I was getting worried.” His voice fluxuates in a way that makes me physically restrain kicking him because of how superficial it sounds. Even if he is doing this to amuse himself that just makes it worse. Is he here to kill me, to drag me to Wanda, to just fight me?

“I was going to call you.” I let myself slink back out of the webbed corner, descending from a string of web, “But I also was like, why would I want to talk to Deadpool.” I let the joking nature flood my voice, trying to make up for the lack of smile that I can convey. It just feels stilted and unnatural.

“Because of my wit, my charm? My sex appeal.” I drop down so my eyes are level to his, a strange look into a red mask and white eyes, but he pokes me in the nose. I throw myself back into the corner before I realize, taking a crouched stance.

“Nah.” My eyes flick to what can be described as ‘gear’, “What are the uh- katanas for. Surely you can’t need that many.” I covertly ready my web shooters in the general direction of the merc.

“Well it is best to have things in pairs, two katanas, two guns, two daggers, two grenades, two red suited heroes.” He pauses, “Two of whatever you have on your wrists.”

“They’re web shooters.” I slip off the wall and start to stand like a normal person, “Where do you keep the daggers.”

“So you don’t make your own webs!” He starts walking a bit closer but when he notices me unconsciously back up he stops, “You must have super strength, you can stick to things,”

“That’d be gross to make webs, in spiders the webs come out of the butt. And uh yeah I can do both of those other things.” He overtly looks me up and down.

“Super healing too?” It hits me like a brick how much he has been restraining his actions as to not scare me.

“Why are you here?”

“Somebody paid me to kill yo-” I hit his entire body with webs, locking him to the floor and wall. When he is secured I drape more webs over him in the blink of an eye. I look at him for a moment, him and all of his heart beat increasing but breathing staying steady self, It should be best to flee.

“Webs, Webs webs webswebswebs” I turn around to him speaking with a quick voice, “I wasn’t going to do it.”

“How do I know that.” This is it, this is when I’ve officially gotten more influential than last time around, somebody cares this much that I die.

“You don’t think I’m that much of a scumbag, do you?” What if Tony stark went back this far, what if it was him, why would he fail. Why am I the only one who doesn’t.

“Ih-”

“C’mon Spidey. Why else would I tell you?” Something’s wrong, something’s wrong why would he not kill me sooner I can see the voice activated grenades.

“Merc’s honor. I DON’T KNOw.” My voice cracks, “what were you going to do.” I nearly whisper out, sitting down on the floor in front of Deadpool.

“I don’t want to kill you, I want you to help me kill them.” He shimmies around in the webs but when I glare he stops.

“And what do you get out of this.”

“What do I get out of this?! I want spiderman to be alive is that not enough. You like save kittens out of trees and stuff, along with the other super-hero-ing.”

“No it’s not enough. You’re a mercenary, mercenaries would kill their own mother for money.” I cross my arms and try my best at an intimidating glare, but that criminal Aaron Davis last year was right, I am bad at this. I need to get better or I might not succeed.

“I’m not that heartless! I don’t take any contracts that ask me to kill anyone who’s a good person.” He focuses his eyes to mine, “C’mon I don’t kill the innocent.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone Deadpool. Flat out.” It takes a minute for it to click in his mind, even through the mask I can feel his heart beat and his mind whirl.

“They want to kill you.”

“Well tough.” But I need to live, or half the universe will die. I- I can’t let the universe die because I’m too much of a child, “We need to get them into prison, I’d rather not kill them. Tell me all you know.”

“The motherfuckers are paying me almost a million, I can’t imagine why. They run a gang that deals in horrifying ass weapons. Like these beads that once activated they stick to a person and release cyanide gas when a pre programmed amount of people are nearby.” My breath sticks into my throat, this is all to familiar, I dealt with this or at least something similar, this made me famous this time around.

“Let’s go. Now.” I grab a fistful of the web that surrounds Deadpool, and pull. It rips off and the man stands up with a long whistle.

“Ok Spidey. I’ll lead the way.” I start swinging with webs behind and around him.

-

He stops outside a gas station, and sits down. The gas station is abandoned, I can see that, and there is nobody around the area. We’ve gone farther than the confines of the center city and it has been a significant amount of time for travel. 

I carefully perch on the overhang above deadpool, slightly out of melee zone reach, “Deadpool.” The man is standing up and tapping his hands against his legs, but catches a glance at me and looks up.

“Yea Webs?” He cocks his head at me, and looks around the street for something.

“This better not be where you think they are.” I look around and find nothing, nothing but a stretch of pothole marked road and a large expanse of open sky.

“I’m not that much of a himbo, don’t worry.”

“Deadpool.” I groan, and I can almost see the grin through the mask of his suit.

“What?” He is incredulous, he should be acting more serious when he told me somebody is actively trying to kill me. I need to make sure the half of the universe is saved.

“Why are we here?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, forgot everything when I saw your beautiful face. How old are you anyways?” The question hits me like a backhand across my face.

“Why do you ask. I do have a secret identity.”

“I want to know if you can pass for a grizzled mercenary, and I want to know if I can flirt with you.”

“Deadpool. I ha-”

“Please?” I need to everything to make sure. My “secret identity” could be the thing that kills me if he is an ally to me, and I am almost sure he is. I can’t let this. I can’t. I would die right now if the world would live for it.

“I’m not old enough to drink, but come September, I will have to devote my free time to college.”

“Damn didn’t expect you to actually tell me,” I regret it already deadpool, don't worry, “Well I guess that plan is dead.” I look at him strangely instead of responding, “I guess we won’t be able to sneak in there really.”

“What?”

“I told them I might have a mercenary partner with me, and a college student definitely can’t pass for that. So we go on to plan b, or c”

“Which is,”

“Plan b is have you pretend to be captured, plan c is have you pretend to be a corpse.” If it must be done.

“Ill choose plan b.” Deadpool walks into the abandoned building and comes out with a bundle of something.

“You can break these right?” He throws it to me and I unravel a large hoodie and some sweats,” No under that. The clothes are to hide the binds.” I unravel it further to find a long strip of rope and a blindfold.

“Yeah.” I test the rope, and it is stronger than expected but not by much, the strands are intermixed with metal. After slipping on the sweatpants I look him directly in the eyes to say, “Tie me up.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he puts my arms behind my back, then wraps the cords around me. I look thoroughly tied up by the end, but hide that with the hoodie.

“Lets go, and also.” He pauses to look me over for a second, “If you don’t want us tied together you better act drugged.”

“Sure,” a sort of immeasurable gratitude wells up in my chest as he has a plan, really has a plan.

\--

We arrive at a small corporate looking building slightly outside of downtown after a solid thirty minutes of walking. The walls are decrepit and the place doesn’t look well kept, but the footprints that I can see displacing the dirt leading to the door clearly suggests use.

“I’m going to start acting now, don’t get worried, ok? Act scared.” He whispers into my ear, and I feign a sluggish fear.

“Finally got ya here now, you little valuable to all hell shit.” I follow his footsteps, not daring to glance up. I focus my mind on the building, the three heartbeats coming from the basement, and a sluggish one upstairs.

“Broke ya, haven’t I? Maybe it’s just the drugs, cyanide was supposed to kill you Spidey.” We walk through the threshold, to an elevator with only one button. Deadpool walks over behind a potted plant, moves it, opens up a panel, and presses a button that summons the elevator. We walk inside and he looks at the ceiling.

“Oi, boss. The asshat didn’t die from the cyanide I gave him so I assumed that you could jus take care of him. More evidence in my favor, eh?” It takes a moment of deadpool’s impatient tapping for a low rumbling bad sound quality voice to come from the speaker at the top.

“You assure he will not cause any trouble?”

“How will he, I have no idea what it did to him but the cyanide’s got him drugged to all hell. I gave him a full ten grams of it. Ten fucking grams of cyanide and this kid didn’t die.” He thwacks me on the back, and I just sleepily grumble.

“You’re work is appreciated deadpool. The second half of your payment will be given.” The doors open to a small sitting room. The walls look like a nuclear bunker, and the couches are all sterile looking.

“C’mon don’t keep me waiting.” He moans, and we sit down on the couches, a short time passes before a man walks through a very secured door. I can barely hear the other heartbeats but they are far below us.

“We appreciate your help deadpool.” The man grumbles, a blank white mask over his face with a body decorated in a large pair of work gloves and safety glasses.

“There aren’t any cameras here, right? There’s a reason that the other mercs didn’t take this contract. Too many of them like Spidey, honest some would kill me if they knew.” I wonder if the mercs truly do like me, or if it’s a well crafted lie.

“No cameras.” In the blink of an eye deadpool shoots this man directly between the eyes.

“Ok. I’m going to search for the rest of them. Stay here to make sure none escape.” I nod, feeling the implication of that, the words of how he will kill the rest go unsaid.

For the next thirty minutes I listen as both heartbeats increase in volume and frequency before ending suddenly with the sound of gunshot from below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! I've had a problem with procrastinating writing this chapter. I hope you comment, Ill be reading them! (I wrote most of this today because I really wanted to finish the chapter, please be nice to me)


	12. Fluff interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a total fluff chapter that I wanted to write and add, If you don't like It I'm sorry. It's just about Spider-man and deadpool talking

Deadpool looks at me, and tuts in a way that makes me cross me arms over my chest. A moment later he has grabbed my arm and started dragging me to who knows where, I certainly don’t. He speaks up before I can mumble my protests.

“C’mon Spidey, you’re getting into a weird mopey state again.” He stops directly dragging me but I unintentionally fall into a walking pace behind him.

“No, I am being completely not mopey, I’ve been saving people.” I huff in a noncommittal way, trying to ignore the gazes and photos that follow us around the city streets.

“Sorry I mean more like nervous energy.” the same nervous energy that I can feel rattling around my bones, “You have the coping mechanisms of a twelve year old.”

“I take offense.”

“Don’t. I’m doing something nice for you kid, don’t make me regret it.” We pass the taco place we usually eat at, without Deadpool even looking in.

“Which is?”

“Surprises. Maybe its a way of thanking you for getting the avengers off of my back.” A few people wave at us, and when I stop to enthusiastically wave at them Deadpool does as well.

“I did nothing, you just improved.” I grumble when we start up again, temporary good mood gone and replaced with the familiar emptiness.

“Spidey. What did I say about self confidence.”

“Eat tacos, fuck bitches. Kill the government?” He lets out a full belly laugh that sounds ferally maniacal.

“N-no that’s my own. Jeez webs you’re making me feel like a bad influence over here. I told you to shut the fuck up about that negative self talk. You’re spidey, c’mon. Kids your age worship you.”

“Bu-” But he’s wrong. He just doesn’t know or he’ll leave me behind like everyone else. He doesn’t know how stupid I’ve been, and how every single one of my dumbass mistakes is a direct threat to his, and the rest of the universe’s lives. Dr. Strange was wrong. He was wrong. I am not going to do well. Dr. Strange was wrong. I doomed the entire universe because of how useless I am.

“What did I just say.” As if he could hear my thoughts Deadpool rests an arm around my shoulder as I wait for the buzzing pain in my mind to subside. I just sigh and become silent for a while, and after a few minutes break the silence that I myself set in place.

“College starts tomorrow. I’m preemptively mourning the loss of sleep.” Wade lets out a long whistle that sounds strangely comforting.

“Well then we can have a free day together, we’re almost there, then we can go back to my apartment to mope there with waffles or something.”

“You’re making waffles?” my voice rises in an excited manner but I manage to school my features with the knowledge of the smirk that lies under Deadpool’s mask at my reaction, “I hope you don’t put hot sauce on them again.”

“If you don’t steal my sweatshirt again.” He tuts again, starting to speed up his walking which I match.

“That was one time.” My protests are loud, my crops watered, my annoyance ignored.

“Yeah but I liked the sweatshirt.” He whines like a child, something that I hum off.

I think back to the offering, the companionship that has come out of nowhere and led to this strange intimacy, “Sounds nice.”

“Well, we’re here.” we stop suddenly, and I look up to see the giant sign reading, ‘Pet adoptions 50% off’.

“The humane society? ‘pool I can’t get an animal.” It sounds so nice, in a way that burns at my tear ducts and chest.

“Well I can, and it’ll be your pet too, some animal for you to obsess over instead of stray cats.”

“Stray cats are nice.” My mind drags me back to last week where I rescued a stray cat from a tree, and to Deadpool’s copious laughter she clawed my bare arms into shreds, leading me to sulk in his apartment for the next hour for them to heal in order to hide the stupidity from my aunt.

“Well you can’t wrangle a stray cat into my apartment.” He moves to walk through the doors but I grab his arm to hold him back, not with my whole strength of course, I haven’t even thought of using that in over a month.

“You better be ready for the responsibility of taking care of a cat.” Deadpool scoffs.

“I had cats when I was a kid, c’mon. You can help me take care of it too.” The tone is too joking, so I feel the words forcing their way out of my throat,

“Deadpool, promise me.”

He looks me in the eyes for a few seconds, before a far more serious tone overwhelmes his voice, “Jeez webs, yeah I promise.”

“Thank you.” And without another moment’s hesitation I drag him through the door in a way that forces a chuckle out of his throat.

We walk around the pets area for almost an hour, I make sure to pet and play with every single one that we consider, from the birds to the dogs. The woman running the place gives us suspicious looks but I can’t pay attention to her when overwhelmed with such cute animals.

I almost choose this really nice looking snake covered in scars, but don’t when I realize that I can’t cuddle the mildly angry snake.

My second choice is a retired service dog, a really nice boy called James who’s veteran owner died a week ago. I was so close to choosing him, but until I saw my favorite of them all. I knew somebody else would want James, dogs go the quickest after all.

But the animal I end up choosing is this really sweet cat named Alicia. She’s blind in one eye, and her tail has a giant crink in it, but whenever you get near her she purrs like a radiator box. Apparently she’s been here for almost two years, and is very old, an old abandoned cat. After Deadpool signs her paperwork I carry her in my arms all the way to the pet store, as she purrs all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you want me to write the stories inbetween the time skipped month of spidey and deadpool getting to know each other. This is just a little fluff chapter, please tell me if you like these! Because if nobody does I'll try not to add any of these if i ever write them in. It also kinda introduces next chapter.


	13. The next day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes to his first day at college, but something seems wrong

“Welcome to Queensburough Community college!” The only person here happier than my new dorm RA is me, “I’m sure all of you are excited for your first day here!” There is murmured agreement from the rest of my group.

“Everyone follow me so I can show you to the student center.” There's about ten other people on this with me, I think there was more to start out but some of the people must have fallen out of the group earlier. It feels nice, I- would have been doing this before, probably at about the same time and maybe the same place.

“Hey,” The guy walking next to me taps me on the shoulder, I look up to see a tall fellow student seemingly of Indian descent with a giant kind grin on his face, “You’re that kid who skipped the grades right? You were in the local paper.” He looks familiar.

“Oh. Huh I didn’t realize that, but it is me. I’m Peter Parker, what’s your name?” I hold out my hand and he smiles as he shakes it. 

“Sam, Sam Thompson,” He matches his stride to mine, “What major are you taking Peter?”

“I’m going into mechanical engineering, you?”

“I’m going into computer engineering, maybe we’ll have some of the same classes. We’re in the same dorm so we’ll see each other anyways.” He goes onto ramble slightly more, but the RA stops in front of a building.

“This is the student center go here if you have any questions for the counselor or have any questions really, although it would probably be better to ask me first instead.” He turns and we all start to follow him again, “That’s where you’ll be getting your schedule come next week. Now if you will all follow me to the library.”

“Yeah we’ll definitely have the same classes, I’m going to be taking that as a minor most likely. Maybe well even share a dorm room Sam.”

“Almost definitely, I hear that a lot of the rooms here are triplets. But maybe they’ll put you in a double or a single because you’re young, how old are you?”

“Fifteen.” I can almost feel the strain of the words on my tongue, my mind shouting that I’m really eighteen, that I’m an adult.

“Damn. You must be smart as hell, how didn’t you get into one of the bougie colleges like MIT?” I wait to answer until the RA has already introduced us to the library and started on his way to the cafeteria.

“I’m really not that smart, I just gamed the system. And I'm here because I applied super late, but I still got a full ride scholarship. The execs or something probably think that I’m the next Tony stark.” Not that I ever will be, I’m just the kid with the knowledge of the future.

“Stop being so humble, I couldn't even get to midtown high but you managed to get to college a full three years early.” I didn’t get in early, I am just too early in time.

“Let’s change the subject, do you like dungeons and dragons?” I never got to play anything this time through. I can remember the crack head game that I was running, the fight against the religions of Kye. 

“Oh yes I do. Which is your favorite class to play?” We start walking through the start of the plaza, people all around so we start to talk louder in order to hear each other.

“Ba-” The hairs raise on the back of my neck and I look around but see nothing. A girl in a baggy hoodie, a guy in a polo talking to another in sweatpants, two girls trying to intricately braid hair, the RA looking away, the rest of our group gone, the group members slipping off to the coffee shop, a guy who seemingly fell asleep on one of the tables in the middle of lunch, a few people on their phones in a group sitting in a circle.

“-rd’ I look again -everything the same the same the time seems to slow down, everything is the same but where is the girl in the hoodie?- and nothing is there but the hum of fear.

“What is it Peter.” He places a hand on my shoulder as I try my best not to flinch

“I just thought I heard somebody say my name.” We spend the rest of the day as the only two people following the RA, talking vaguely about our interests.

-

  
  


I fall asleep to have my mind ripped.

  
  


_ Who am I? _

  
  


It hurts, like the pain of a headache peeled with a band-aid.

  
  


_ Is this death? _

  
  


The world is black. Featureless.

  
  


_ Is this the moment before I die? Is this the spurt of activity before brain death? _

  
  


A small green light appears far ahead of me.

  
  


_ I failed _

  
  


I walk to it.

  
  


_ Who am I? _

  
  


My steps make no sound

  
  


_ Am I Peter Parker? _

  
  


No matter how much I stomp

  
  


_ Or is Peter Parker me? _

  
  


I get closer

  
  


_ Green like the time stone _

  
  


Instead of one light

It is many

  
  


_ This is the body of  _ _Spider-man_

  
  


It forms a hallway

  
  


_ I am  _ _Spider-man_

  
  


I walk through

  
  


_ I am Peter Parker _

  
  


Stones on the walls

  
  


_ But is Peter Parker Spider-man? _

  
  


They glow green

  
  


_ He is _

  
  


I try not to look

  
  


_ But it doesn’t make sense _

  
  


SPIDER SENSE TELLS ME NOT TO

  
  


_ Spider-man is a hero _

  
  


I want to

  
  


_ I am not a hero _

  
  


I loo-

  
  
  


**Fe ynagyefgh9acu ergvh ouhwecrmuvhwv89yrtbahmvrhygvam87cme,rj. KIIIL uihnzsfhcbaouewhmn MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

**SoidjfnmvuhueirhuhuiahwevIfijneivumhriuhaiuhevmiuwhaeuirbhiuawevkSHOULDuhaihvyurhgaujcmre,iuahwiruhvwje,iuehriuvhanmNOTsjndfiuhavm7nuihamc,iuheEXIST**

**eakjnmduhiuhasjvurjmca8uherMORTAL?**

**fesa8uvmnahtcum,HELP**

**ufhwesunygcesrh,v8uyh8imunrvtPLEASEfhewuihnveyh8auchewMORTAL**

**I N L O N D O N**

  
  


_ OWW OWW BELLS IN MY MIND _

  
  


I hear a whisper

  
  


_ MAKE IT STOP _

  
  


I walk closer

  
  


_ PLEASE _

  
  


It gets louder

  
  
  


** _KILLMEMORTAL_ **

  
  


I hear it

  
  


_ WHAT IS THAT? _

  
  


I make it out

  
  


_ GET IT OUT?! _

  
  


“Peter”

  
  


** _ok_ **

  
  


“Tony stark.”

  
  


_ Why can I hear static? _

  
  
  


“He is the key.”

-

My eyes devour line by line of the book on the intricacies of the research on the modern fusion engine. My mind buzzes with ideas but I am focused on reading the book through in order to fulfill those ideas more accurately but I can’t help myself with imagining.

I’m in the common room of my floor, and down the hallway is Sam sleeping in our dorm. I didn’t want to disturb him by reading in there while he was asleep so I decided to go out here instead. I tried and failed at falling asleep. At least I can’t hear the bells.

In front of me is an enormous cup of coffee, which I don’t need much to feel a buzz but the metabolism makes it wear off fairly quickly. But even with the increasing amounts of coffee ingested I can’t seem to fight off the growing distraction. My brain tingles, slightly in the way of the spidey sense but mainly just a strange out of place feeling. Like the smell of roses coming from a car engine or something.

The increasing buzzing behind my eyes makes it so I nearly can’t hear the door opening to the elevator. I try to drag my eyes to continue reading the book but it mainly means I stare at the book as my mind forces me to listen to the footsteps of the person who just entered. 

The footsteps are very regular, meaning this person has a confident walk, but also very very quiet. Too quiet, so quiet I wouldn’t be able to hear it without advanced senses. The walk seems to follow the similar pattern to Black widow, so this person must be an assassin or one trained like one.

Either way I should try to ignore them, but I can hear the heartbeat now that my mind makes me, and it is far too fast for the confident walk, it must mean that this person is either nervous or anxious.

The buzzing of the back of my neck makes it too difficult to think now. This must be why I should never have caffeine. But I can hear the very quiet and deliberately so breathing pattern. But I can just make out how the footsteps have stopped. The volume of the heartbeat must mean that this person is only about 7 feet away, and the angle must mean that the person is about my height.

“You haven’t flipped the page in a minute.” The voice snaps my gaze up, straight to the gaze of Wanda, wearing jeans and a Queensburough hoodie.

“Your heartbeat is unbearably loud.” The buzzing in the back of my eyes fade, it must have been some form of the spidey sense because of her proximity. Even as it fades her presence makes me wary.

“You’re awfully young to be in college. We’ll be taking classes together.” I open my mouth to respond but she puts up a hand to silence me.

“We need to go somewhere private to talk Peter.” I watch her eyes, to make sure they won’t turn red.

“I’m sorry miss, but why should I follow you?” I put on my best, I’m a child only innocent, only a kid voice.

“Would you rather us talk it out here, because I am going to talk.” She taps the floor with her foot, but I don’t tear my gaze away from her eyes.

“I would rather not talk it out with you.” My muscles feel ready. I should run I should jump. I should swing around the area. I need to train. I have not done my training today. I will fail the universe just because I was too lazy.

“Well we’re going to, we need to talk about a certain event. So I guess I’ll just say it if you don’t stop me.” She is threatening me. Threats. This is not good. She knows. She remembers.

“No. I’ll,” I sigh and avoid eye contact, “I’ll go with you.” With a glance back at the hallway I follow her. As we walk outside I am brutally reminded that it really is the dead of night. I keep a close eye on her the whole way as we walk through the nearby city into a little housing complex. 

She leads me into the adorable little house, complete with one of those gardens that hangs off the edges of windows. Inside we sit down in a living room.

“Vision isn’t here right now don’t worry.” She sits down lazily like a teenager, and I so often forget that she is one, and that we’re the same age. I, myself, sit with the seriousness of someone who knows he is the fate of the universe.

“I thought you were in Europe?” I tentatively say, cautiously looking at her as she sits up and her expression turns far more serious.

“Is that what I did last time around?” I can’t help a nauseous feeling as she uses the red magic of my nightmares to levitate a plate of chips over to us.

“Yes.” I grab one of the chips to taste that It’s sour cream and cheddar flavored, “How did you find out who I was.”

“You’re not very subtle little spider.” She sees my guarded expression, “I saw a news article about a kid from Queens skipping grades. I wasn’t sure until I saw that face.”

“What do you want from me.” I can feel the bubbling anger in my blood that I try to forget I have, “The future has changed so all my information is invalid. How are you even here, when you’re a criminal.”

“I signed the accords.” She sounds quiet, and I don’t realize until later that she is internally conflicted. I take it now as a lie.

“No you didn’t. I know what you did last time and that wasn’t it.” I breathe out but my body only becomes more tense, “You don’t believe in them one bit. How am I to believe you signed them.”

“Peter. You knew the future, you saw an alien threat. Do you honestly think i’m that heartless?”

My mind throbs, “I’d rather not answer that.”, I return my haw eyed gaze to her eyes.

“I saw a threat to our planet. What did I possibly do to you that you think I wouldn’t want to stop that?”

“Says the person who broke into my mind to get that information.” I run my hands through my hair nervously, “Why was it necessary to make me relive my worst memories.”

“I was scared.” She is vulnerable.

“How is Wanda Maximoff. An avenger. An avenger who can kick my ass every day scared.” I try not to snap. I try not to, I don’t deserve to be spider-man.

“I know I shouldn’t have been. I know that I could have.”

“Are you just cruel?” I can’t comprehend Wanda Maximoff even being illogically scared of me. She fought Ultron, she beat the rest of us to a pulp.

“You don’t even know how terrifying your strength is do you. Fucking adrenaline that’s what, you expect me to not get even a little scared when this superhero glues himself to you with more force than it takes to prevent an airplane from taking off?” Thats a flat out lie. I’m not strong, well at least not that strong. Probably far weaker than Captain America. I need to train, I need to train, my training and exercise isn’t working, I need to train.

“Oh no.” I can feel the guilt replace the anger as I mock, “I’m a psychic who can disintegrate people who fears a random kid with sticky hands.”

“I couldn’t even hit you! Is me using the least intrusive of my mental powers so shitty?” I grit my teeth and refuse to answer, “I did something different. I signed the accords. Please trust me.”

My copious anxieties stress at the mental barrier of my fear of Wanda Maximoff. I can hear bells rung from the other side.

“We need to work together on this Peter.” She could help. It’s my fault I’m illogical. My fucking mistakes I’m such a shitty person why was I chosen? I should have just died in the snap. Anyone else would have been so much better than me at this. I am an evil jerk that should be dead.

“I-h I know.” I feel my head rest in my hands letting the thoughts ransack my mind, “I’m sorry. I’ll help you.”

“Tell me as much as you can.” Should I tell her about the dream?

I tell her about everything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! I was trying to figure out how to better write Wanda, but I think I still failed so sorry. I might do a Tony POV chapter after this one if anyone wants it.


	14. Teaser for next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter.

“Why did I do this. Why.” I hear my phone buzz in my pocket, but ignore it. I can’t deal with that right now.

“Will Wanda even help me. What if this is the wrong choice.” I feel a stabbing pain in my side, but I deserve the pain no matter what it’s from, “I really wish I could tell you the details.”

“Goddamnit. There’s really something in me biting away that wishes none of this happened, that I just stayed some little cringy teen filled with a crush and stupidity.” The wind blows at me in a way that brings up piles upon piles of my memories, drudging up every single time I felt it ruffle my hair. It doesn’t though, my suit leaves me shivering but not a hair on my head moves.

“I feel like I’m loosing it, I know its probably nothing. I know that it is a feeling that everyone has felt and that I’m just an overly dramatic useless member of society.” I sit down on the gravel, it is biting in a way that I should forget, “Why did anything give me the power that anyone else could use right.”

“I used to think that it was so cool. That the little tricks that I did with a reckless amount of strength were good. I have no idea why people encouraged me. I have no idea why you encouraged me.” I drag my hands through the gravel, clenching down to distract from my side. 

“Jeez, what was I even talking about.”

-earlier-

I find him in the park, surrounded by people that are forced to cling to him in a way that makes me worry.

Somehow a worry even more than the bombs attached to them all like flies to the scene of the corpses. I tear my eyes away from the thing I’d prefer to think of as ‘ground beef’.

_ He killed them. So so many. _

Spider-man is like a pillar of security that I have to force myself to not stick to him like a little child. So much so that I barely hear when he leans over to whisper in my ear.

“You don’t have to do this Jen. I can handle it.”, I look back up at him, and over to the people. To their faces. To their crying eyes.

“I know, but I can’t just let them die. I was the one who helped him make this, he was my-” I force myself to stop, my blabbermouth could kill people, “I helped him make this circuit, I can defuse it. I just need time.” He nods, so I go to take my place.

-present-

“I deserve to have someone burn my eyes out of my skull.” I look down at my bloodstained hands, “Somebody should just push me off this building. One of the people I hurt should poison the food I don’t deserve to eat. One of the bad guys should succeed in hurting only me-” Even though my eyes are turned downwards I can feel the disappointed look on Mr. Stark’s face.

“Yeah right, god. I was telling you about what happened with Wanda,” I can feel the regrowth of skin, “I really didn’t want to team up with her, I hate this so much, her fu-”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t curse. Why can’t I do anything right.” I pinch myself, to stop saying edgy things like that, “I wish I could tell you anything about this really. But I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“I needed to team up with Wanda, because I’m just well, you know, some college kid.” I breathe in sharply, “And she’s a world bending psychic that could give any dumb kid like me nightmares.”

“Nobody should feel any pity for me though, It’s not as bad as the word would indicate, but I just have no other word I know how to use to describe it. It is really really nothing. I should be able to handle it.” I can viserally feel the response that the old Mr. Stark would say, but the lack of any response sends nausea down my mind.

“I did it a month ago, you know, well you don’t. We grouped up a month ago and I’ve heard nothing from her since. Though maybe she was watching me since. It happened only a few days after I talked to Wanda. It gave me a reason, well, something that made me see it.” I really need to be the best I can, there is no room for error.

“I need to do more, I need to seek out the danger, so I can protect the most people.” 

-earlier-

I walk behind the treeline, trying to avoid the sightline of the maniac as Spiderman stands up there talking to distract him.

I still at the sight of Spider-man being attached to one of the bombs, one that is glowing a bright purple and pulsing, James is talking but I can’t hear him.

The bombs are constantly getting signals that stop them from exploding every few seconds, I just need to set up my laptop to override the signal in order to make it so that the signal is coming from the laptop instead of the remote blasting it to the control panel hidden in the park bathroom.

Spider-man draws the eyes well enough, with his pressing but innocent questions, his witty charm, and his pity. Pity. Pity. James doesn’t deserve pity.

With the quick distraction I slip in without being viewed, to the small collection of carious electronics. It’s mainly routed through an arduino.

I kept my bag for this purpose, for the sneaking suspicion that something would go wrong. But I never thought it was this, just that our fireworks would need fixing.

Disarming the bombs is theoretically easy enough, use a vpn to mask the signal of the laptop in order to give it the same appearance of the controller that James has, but the problem is my shaking hands, my burning anxiety.

I just manage to control the si-

-present-

“I took the chitauri core. I can use it. I can.” it turns to panicked mumbles, a horrible breakdown. I stop my hysterics, I am nothing with them.

“You know what.” I stand up, “I don’t know why I do this Mr. Stark. I can’t act like this anymore. There’s people for me to save.” My voice echoes along the walls, pressing in on me like a thousand tiny little clamps.

But there is no wall. There is no Mr. Stark. Just me talking to myself on an empty rooftop filled with delusions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took a long time to get out. I'm so sorry that it's not very wordly good because I have no beta and I usually do this at emotionally charged times when I'm minuted before sleeping. So. uh. Sorry. I really should read over these more but I can't make myself many times. ahhh


	15. The machine, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter decides to go through with an idea fueled by a month of sleepless nights after guilt from the events of last chapter.

I have a Chitauri core, and the guts to use it. In the current state it burns through the top layer of my skin roughly as quickly as it burns away. The burn is like an electric shock, and a burn, and a pinch.

A month of sleepless nights have accumulated to this very day, but I still plan to distance what I plan to do now with the identity of Spider-man. 

-Tony POV-

“Hey Tony,” A cup of coffee is placed in front of me, as even though Pepper is very adamant about not being my maid she still cares enough to make sure I function.

She pulls up one of the chairs next to me, sitting down with her back still straight. But then she notices, enough that I can feel as Pepper looks over my shoulder at the letter that lies in between my hands, “Are you looking for Spider-man or something?” 

“Well, in a way.” I let her take the letter from me, the thick cardstock written all over with what looks like sharpie, or crayola marker.

“Then why is Deadpool sending you this, look at it. It says, ‘This is about Spidey.’ on the front.” she turns it over to scan for words between the scribbles and doodles, “On the back too.”

“Pep,” She ignores me for a few moments, so I let my eyes appreciatively scan my accomplishments throughout the lab.

“There is even drawings all over this, I mean look, this is some serious detail, and is that code?” She squints her eyes and brings it closer to the message crunched into the smallest area under the postal stamp.

“It is code, It says, and I quote, ‘Read the fucking letter Stark’, and if you look over there he has written swears in spanish.”

“Then why haven’t you read it.” The room goes silent, the machines seem to stop whirring, the soft sounds of the lights to stop, but most of all just the pressing thick silence that envelopes us.

“I-h” my mouth is automatically forming a lie without me even having any conscious input, but many times it seems that Pepper knows me more than I do myself, or at least that’s why I hope she interrupted me. 

“If you had time enough to decode the note then you have time to read it.” she pushes the letter to me, using eye contact to indicate that she wants me to tear open the seal.

“Maybe theres a bomb inside Pep, you neve-”

“As stated earlier boss, there is no bomb inside the package.” FRIDAY’s cool voice sounds through the speakers, betraying another of my attempts to weasel from a situation.

“Fri…” I stand up and start to pace, letting the sigh fall from my throat as a frustrated groan, the music turns on at my coded request - the morse code tap for 69 - letting my mind wander.

“So what is it Tony?” her voice doesn’t let me ignore much for longer, I look back at the face, the face that I could see myself marrying one day.

“Did you know how cool one of my suits are, how mind blowingly, ass kickingly amazing. Do you know how fucking much people want me to make them suits.” said suits stand around my like a souless army.

“Tony.”

“No listen, listen Pep. These are works of art that take months to make. These are wonderful creations that any person would want to have. And he” my eyes flicker to the Spider suit still on display, “He just didn’t want it.”

“Tony, I know that isn’t the reason. I know that you would drive yourself to impress him or something,” My face forms one with incredulous nature, “What, It’s charming! Anyway, It’s something else than that he rejected it.”

“I don’t think he likes us much,” I can’t help my instinct to fiddle with things, busying my hands when my mind is as well, “It’s like night and day, as soon as he leaves my presence he lightens up. Like fuck how does someone even hate me that much, like what can I do?”

“Then impress him, show him how much you care for the world?” her unveiled adoration makes me feel nauseous, like something is wrong.

“I was planning to.”

-

I throw the rope to the roof of the tower, tugging it to make sure the grappling hook has locked in. If it has gone a bit farther than it is supposed to I’m not sure anyone will notice.

I carefully crawl across the rope, trying to mask the enhanced form of my abilities to simply look like a very accomplished natural person, but when I reach the side of the building it becomes far more difficult to hide that. I end up letting my shoulders drop into improper form so that I have a more believable struggle. It’s not like the hundreds of pounds on my back is doing a thing to me.

Perhaps I should try more, the core is webbed to right above my heart and with every jolt the chance it blows increases tenfold, even though I have put it into a far more stable state the force of 100 lbs will set it off.

Pulling myself over the final edge gives me the muscle memory of leaving a pool, but at the top the wind whips back and forth. It feels like something, some danger, the floor is gravel.

At midnight the library is closed, nobody will notice the fact that I am overriding them to use as a source of computing power, all that is strapped to my back is to harvest the foreign powers of the stars.

The sensors indicate that the air around here is racked with traces of this power, that the fabric of space time has a few unpatched holes that I can unravel as I would the frayed edges of a sweater.

This shouldn’t create too much macro disturbance, far less than even the ripples of a 2.2 magnitude earthquake, but slightly more than that of a 1.5 magnitude one. It seems like there was an anchor point that acted like the start of a wormhole to open this, but after years It will most definitely be inactive. I am almost certain in my theories of the fact that this will not open to the anchor point even if it is there, the power for this fusion in the fabric of space running out in the vicinity of Jupiter.

On the micro level there will be a far higher problem, but Avengers tower was built to survive far more than the wildest calculations of mine for the shock wave that goes through due to the vacuum of space.

-

“Fifteen.” He glares at the page containing information about a certain … child. An uncharacteristic growl unintentionally emitting from the soldier with the energy of a boy scout.

“You’d have done it too Steve.” Wanda lounges on the boxes as if they were cushions, “I’ve heard dear Buck’s stories as well, I mean really?” Her voice projects in just the way that it echoes off of the walls of the storage room.

“Any reasonable person would have stopped me Wanda, It is not right. I was a child, and he is right now.” Blue eyes scan the page with quick but fast jerks of the pupils, Wanda watches where he reads.

“He’s in college, a prodigy, leagues above me or anyone else in that stupid community college. Treat him like he’s 18, he hardly fits in with our immaturity anyways.”

“He’s fifteen Wanda. Fifteen! He can’t even drive yet and you are arguing for him being a reckless vigilante leading us into who knows what?”

“There is a reason Steve. I need you to trust me, I’d rather gain the man’s trust by not revealing his secrets. He should tell you himself. He is an eighteen year old man in everything but body.”

“He is not a man Wanda. And don’t you think you’ve told me enough, revealing the secret identity of a vigilante who plays both sides or none at all is bad enough, but revealing the secret identity of a child Wanda? Imagine if that information got out to the public.”

“It will not get revealed, I am only showing it to you and Bucky if the rascal gets cured soon enough.”

“Wanda, you are going to the kid’s college on a whim, the public will look into somebody who suddenly becomes friends with a celebrity like you are. From this page it seems his story is very inconsistent if someone looks.”

“He hasn’t been found out yet.”

“And that’s because nobody, especially not me, wanted to believe that the cheery but serious hero who took bullet wounds and seemed to hold the word on his shoulders was a literal fifteen year old.” His eyes rescan the top of the profile, “Fourteen just a few months ago.” Wanda brushed off his anger with the cavalier attitude of somebody who refused to believe that it could go wrong.

“I told you that he is basically an adult,” she chuckles in the face of Steve’s seriousity, “far more adult than I, even now.”

“Of course you decided to put more weight on this kid’s shoulders. I’ve talked to him, he thinks it’s his duty to save just about everyone.”

“And it is.”

“What did you say.”

“If I could only tell you Stevie, If I could only tell you but I’m not that much of an asshole!”

-

I can see the machine, working as intended, just without the chitauri core. The sensors detect signal after signal coming from 300 meters directly upwards, though the rip should be active enough that It will trigger from down here as well.

The core slots into the slot of the machine, and the electric current that passes through carries the energy along with it. This turns the machine a brilliant purple travelling through tubes like glowing veins. With a flip of a switch the core is covered by a thick layer of metal, turning the scene into one lit only by the moon and veins.

The purple plasma like substance reaches the port, a design that looks like a dream catcher and is designed to add the most magic possible to the certain amount of area without creating a dangerous and explosive concentration.

I bubble over with guilt, lurking in the recesses of my mind with startling appearances like jumpscares that leave me uncontrollably shaking and dizzy. It’s taking a toll that I can feel sizzling from limb to limb with each electric jolt that jumps between my nerves. I am playing god with my own body as collateral, the aftershocks are my punishment.

I can’t help but doubt what is happening, but the sole fact is I can’t risk not doing this. A weapon than anyone with half a brain can use would be amazing, because I have none. My mind is empty and stupid, just a broken machine running off the dedication of a madman. The purple light burns like a sunburn, so I wrap my coat around my chest and hands, as my face is covered by welding goggles and a mask.

Thermal radiation washes off like water vapor all around the area, as I am roughly twenty feet away the noticeably very high temperature means hellish ones when within touching range. The core should not explode like this, Toomes’ notes should be trusted if not for his genius but the fact that his weapons are the most dangerous around.

But I take those principles to new and dangerous levels, my ears barely picking out the incredibly low frequency of the sound emanating from the veins, which increases at a faster rate than the temperature which has easily risen to over 130 Fahrenheit even though this is a chilly New York night in fall.

I try to commit as much as I can to memory, as I dare not leave video evidence and I dare not take my eyes off of this for even a moment. Visually the light is getting to painful levels, which must be easily visible from any rooftop in downtown.

The dreamcatcher shape starts to emit visible waves and ripples of energy, seeming to simmer like water that threatens to boil, a gorgeous sight that burns my eyelids like a hot soup eaten too soon.

A shock wave hits me like a wall of bricks, throwing me off the building as I catch the briefest glimpse of a rapidly decaying proto-wormhole.

-

“What was that!” I can’t help but shout, looking around as the vibrations run up my legs, eyes reflexively going to the nearest speaker.

“An unknown shock wave originating from the top of the building sir, not enough to damage the building.”

“What caused it?” Pepper looks over the readings on the screen with rapt attention, while I continue to question the ‘all knowing AI’.

“I do not know sir, the cameras up there went inactive without my notice.” There is a pause, worryingly so in a way that could indicate the broken machinery, “Roughly three days ago my routine checks were disabled, and two days ago they were rendered inactive.”

Without further ado I rush upstairs, taking the stairs in case of another of the shock waves, arriving at the boiling hot scene of a burnt out machine. The only traces that a person was there is the dots of blood littered around the machine itself.

The smoke smells like boiling ash, but the heart of the machine glows a purple from my nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this isn't amazing, but I liked the idea and I'm writing free fanfiction on the internet, so like uh. Sorry if you mind, but I wanted to post it and im bad at decisions because its a week night and almost 3am so like. ehhhh


	16. The past comes after him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People notice what Peter has done, and suddenly more than ever people are on the path to noticing the man in red.

Conscious hits me like a baseball to the head, and with my first few moments I manage to push my mask up the smallest bit before vomiting up blood. My mind swims before me and the entire world is unbearably blurring but hard to think and see.

“Holy fuck .. Hey, hey man are you alright?” I open my eyes to the face of another man hovering a few feet from my own. I see a vague swatch of brown and hear the deep voice.

“I should call an ambulance …” adrenaline peaks in my blood almost instantly, bringing my vision to painfully accurate and my hearing to horribly loud and my smell to overwhelming. 

“N-no please” I push myself onto my hands only to feel the shattered left wrist that I hadn’t noticed before, letting out a hiss at the burning pain. But it works, full of aches and pains I have reached a sitting position. My mind fumbles for a suitable lie, “I don’t have health insurance.”

“You could die. I mean look at you, how are you even talking?” My body shakes in a way that irritates my lungs enough to send me into a coughing fit.

“I’m fine.” I bite out, using my powers to drag myself up by a hand stuck to the wall, but it doesn't stick, my hold is distracted by the immeasurable pain on my legs. I slide to the floor in a semi curled up position with a hiss.

“What happened to you?” He kneels beside me as I poke and prod at my legs with me right hand, my left wrist is busted. My left knee and femur are horrible broken, pieces of the femur can be felt poking into the skin. My right calf seems to have a minor fracture or sprain, but I can work with that.

“I fell” I look back down at my injuries, “I think I was conscious during it or something, just enough to prevent me from landing head first or on my spine.” My head swims but I try to ignore it to look around for something to use as a makeshift brace, “Otherwise I would be dead.”

“No shit you fell, but how.” I look at him, “Well of course I know you fell, I came over here because I saw you fall.” The world swims around me so I pause looking, I try to force my mind away from thinking about exactly what the fall did to me. I don’t know if it’s better or worse for this to be because of the ‘medication’.

“Not that I want you to, but why didn’t you call for an ambulance sooner?”

“You were only out for a minute, max. You woke up when I got close.”

“That's good. Really really good.” It makes the fact that the world looks like jello more concerning but ehh, “There’s a stick or pole or something over there, can you pass it to me?” It’s about five feet long, and nasty, and solid metal.

“What are you going to do with that?” I stay purposefully silent as i go through all five stages of I’m too in pain to care, smashing the pole against the ground with as much strength as I can muster, sending it both broken and flying.

“Can you please grab me those?” I ask, breaking him out of a wide eyed glare to where he hands me the pieces again, “Can you see any security cameras?” He gives a look around while I do as well.

“No. But you owe me this, who are you? You’re a supervillain right?” I grab my hole covered hoodie and pull it over my head, leaving the mask in place, the rest of my clothes are equally as tattered.

“I’m not. Ok?” I spit out, tearing the hoodie into long strips through brutal efficiency. It’ll make pretty shitty bandages but still. The nausea bubbles over again, spurred on by the truly disgusting iron burn on my tongue.

“Then what was the boom, you know the rumble that happened like a few minutes ago?” I look up as I pull up my pant leg all the way in order to get a better look at my wrecked left leg. I feel my mind swimming away from me as I inspect mindlessly.

“It’s a science experiment, don’t worry I made the calculations to make sure that it wouldn’t hurt anyone.” And don’t worry, I want to tell him, I already feel guilty. My mind drips through my fingers and suddenly

J̴̲̪̯̙̒̌͐̀̒͂͗̊͌̕͝͠Ę̶̮̺̹̘͗̃͌̓̋̚͠͝S̵̠͙͔͊̒̄̃U̵̺̫̱̇̄̆͒͝S̴̼̯̫̰̮̦̖͔̋̅̂̓̓ͅͅC̴̡̤̦̬̈̔̅Ḩ̶̡̮̟̺̻̙͙͓̣̞͂͑͌͘͜R̷̭͒̿Ĩ̷̢̲̞̜̺͚̤̬͎̹̺̼̪͍̥̿̄̉̋̓̔̈́̀̄̎͆͆S̸̬͖̠̖̹͍̘̫̬̥͍͕̥̖̆͐͜T̴̗̮̥̘͈̃̍̒̏͌͊̑͐̇͒̾̕͘͜W̸͈̓͝Ĥ̸̡̨̛̯͇̻̻̞̔̑͘̕Ą̴͉̱̖͔̰̝͕̖̙̃̈́̀̊̿̒̚ͅͅT̸̡͎̮̮̬̘̠̤̀͋̊̑͒ͅͅT̸̻͚̣̲̼̦̾̈̋̄̾͒̅̆͘͘̕͠H̶̢̧̧̡̧̧͎͓͔̻͍̘̙̅̑ͅȨ̴͈̱̅̄̈́͛̋͌͊́̋̚̚͝F̷̨̯͙̞̮͔̒U̴̯̟̘̥̿̈́̇̈́͆̈͂̓̊̓̾̈́͝ͅC̶̠̈́̒̑́̌̃̋̓́̋́̕̚͝͠K̸̢̤̳̟͔̤̯̙͚̣̞̜̈́̍Ẅ̶̥̭͖̗͇͙͓̦̤̻́̄Ḫ̵̹͇̍͌̊̏̍̐͆͊͊͑́͝͝͝͝ͅY̷͇̪̜͍͂̆̈́̄̾̇Ḏ̸̢̜̠͚͖̳̞͚̖͙͚̽̽̅͆͛̒̐͗͒͘͝͠O̷̼̲̼̳̝̪̜̥̥̣͈͚͆̍̌̉̈̈̽͗͌̕Ȅ̴̘͒̍͐̈̆̂͝Ṡ̷̤̗͍̐̒̿̄̍̚͝͝Ț̷̲̌̈́̑̓̋͊̐͐̎̾̌̕͝͠H̷̢̜͓̺͒͋̈́̋̃́Ī̷̳͉̟̥̫̕S̴̢̜̩̟͕̹̬̱̠̜̯̣͂̿̇̇̔ͅH̴̛͖̻̲͎͓͔͔̘͕̦̝̺̀̄̏́̅̉͆̇̇̇͝ͅǛ̴̢̠͖̺̞̗͈̬̖̃̊̂̍͛͘͝R̶̭̪͙͍̔͆̊̓̈́T̵̛͈͈͎̖͖̖̗͚̝͚̞͋̔̍͒̈̋́̃̌̾͘͘̕S̴̡̧̠͈̗͇̲̰̫̤̝̞͙͆̈́̍̍͌Õ̷̧̻̱͔̩̮̠̠̺̊̓͂͐̎͋̈́̔̕͝͝Ḃ̵̢̙̣̳̙͈̮̠ͅA̷̱͕̙̣̼̥̥̬̯̯̳͑̄̒̋̒͋͆D̴̜̭͚̙̘̑̄͂̿̈́͘

“Wait are you alright are you dying how can I help!” My mind resurfaces and I realize that I just momentarily went unconscious. I push myself out of the limp position on the floor and sit there waiting for the static feeling to fall away.

Once I can feel my lungs take in air I look over, but the man is already talking, “What did that boom do!”

“It didn’t hurt anyone.” I bite out, rearranging my leg so that the pain is less excruciating and more simply painful. I look at him in a way that he must know means not to talk about it.

“Well it hurt you. And you have well, it must be super strength.” I place one of the bars at either side of my leg, from slightly past the knee up to the hip, lining them up.

“I have super strength, what of?” I start to wrap the sweatshirt strips around my leg to secure it and let the weight bearing carry down from it into my calf. My mind feels better than it did before I passed out, hopefully that will stay.

“Well then you must be a villain.” He gestures at me, “That mask and all.” I roll the pant leg down over the brace to hide it from view.

“Spidey wears a mask and has super strength. Do you hate him?” I feel the mask on my face, and just about to take it off I falter.

“Of course I don’t hate Spidey! I even have one of his mug things I mean like I’m just fueling the tourist industry but still. You’re wearing a blank mask, how much more can that scream apprentice serial killer?” He swallows as he looks me over, “Of course I don’t hate you, I don’t know you just don’t feel mean.”

“Can I trust you?”

“What? With what? Don’t rope me into fucking plans if that's what you’re thinking. If I find you on the police reports ill-”

“I’m going to take off my mask. I need you to not describe my appearance to people, if you have to please just be vague.”

“Police sketches are garbage anyways it’s not like they could fi-” I look at him and he stops again, “Sure, you know what, sure. But” He puts a finger up to pause,”Only if it turns out you have not harmed anybody, well killed but still.”

“If I accidentally killed somebody please turn me in, so yeah sure. I trust you.” I unceremoniously take off the mask I had 3-D printed a few days ago and place it under my shirt to dispose of later. With that I stand on my horribly painful legs.

“Jesus Christ kid, I’m sorry!” I whip around and feel myself shifting to a more combat like stance. When I look at him I see him is gasping, so I try to relax and lean on the wall to relieve weight, “Oh my god you’re a teenager, I can help you get where you’re going.”

“You don’t have to.” I start to hobble out of the alleyway, mind skimming over the places I could go to for help nearby, well nearby avengers tower but I’m not going to even consider that. Deadpool is nearest, a twenty minutes walk but still nearest.

“No, I’m going to help you, jeez, I look at you and like you’re the same age as my niece.” I look a him, “I could never let her do something like this alone.” I bite back my shame, I try to bite back all of it.

“Thank you.”

-

“You can leave me here,” I take my arm off from leaning on him to walk the last stretch, looking back at him as I brace my arm on the wall to hobble to the door I recognize as Wade’s. Is it the 507th or the 508th? It’s the 508th, I remember the chips on the paint in the shape of a cross.

I stand in front of the door for a moment, before the pain in my legs forces me to knock, with my right hand only.

“Who’s there?”

“Webs!” The door opens in a startle and he grabs my arm.

-

“No this better not be fucking happening ‘Pep” I look at the screen, and back at the paper, and back at the screen. My whole body trembles as I run my hands through my hair. I absentmindedly tap out on the table, and FRI increases the sound of the calming music Pepper had put on.

“Well it better not be too bad,” she looks up from the laptop in front of her with her face twisted into a gentle grimace, “There are no buildings in the area who both will let us use their footage and have the perp on camera.”

“It’s bad Ms. Potts. According to the readings we have, and the simulations FRI can run the Chitauri core worked as intended. Intended being the state of opening the portal. Now we have a a person who can do that” I puncture the word with a gesture at the screen even though she cannot see that, “running around the city.”

“They probably died Tony,” I look at her, a bit of a twist in shock a small bit like a hit on the face, “Well if you look at the blood, and there was a shock wave. With some reasonable base assumptions one can conclude that the shockwave would have pushed off anyone not properly secured to the, may I add, gravel floor.”

“T-” I hadn’t thought about that, “That would be worse.” I look back at the machine in the corner, all burnt out and useless, “To think that the creator of such a wonderful machine is dead because of some stupid fucking mistake.”

“It’s just another super villain trying to restart the 2012 crisis with Loki. Tony you know you don't want that to happen. This is good.”

“No, this person was smart, brilliant, a genius, maybe even smarter than me?!” Pep looks at me incredulously, “I looked at the machine, and with my best guess the inventor didn’t expect for it to open anything.”

“So? It could just be a test.”

“Then if we assume it needs to be on the tower to work, then somebody was able to do all of that in a prototype, an untested one at that.” I sigh deeply, “I don’t want that person to be dead pep”

“Tony, It doesn’t matter how much you want them to be alive. No regular person is going to survive the fall off the tallest tower in the area. It’s a skyscraper, old people die from falling in the shower.”

“But maybe, maybe they could have. Right?”

“Tony, we could take a blood DNA test, but other than that I can’t be sure.”

“What do you mean we can’t be sure, can’t we check the internet and video footage? Wouldn't there be any, any record of a falling person from avengers tower after the boom?”

Fri echoes from the speakers on the ceiling, “The boom was not large enough for anyone over ¼ mile away from the tower to hear.”

“So that's even more, they must have, and I mean must have planned this. We could look through the security cameras around us, the internet too.”

“And the morgue records Tony, as well as the hospital reports.” The phone rings, “I’m going to take this Tony.”

“Bye pep.” I look over the figures once, twice, before my mind wanders. I find myself glancing at the forgotten letter on the table. To ease my curiosity I grab it, and trying not to care I open it up roughly.

**Stark.**

**I gotta cut it short so you read the damned thing. Where the hell is Spidey? Did you tell him to ignore me? Mean.We just got a cat together you bitch.**

**I haven’t seen the little dork in like a month, I don’t think it’s him having trouble in college, ‘cause the kid is just so darned smart. He fixed my fridge in like twenty minutes, well its cooler than it sounds.**

**I’m not a bad influence, I promise. I think you told him to ignore me or something because when I do see him around he’s all ignoring me and everything.**

**If not, well what’s wrong with Spidey? He deserves to be an Avenger! He wants to be, but he keeps saying bullcrap about how hes not good enough yet. Whatever that means.**

**-Dyingpool**

I hear the click of heels on the floor that drags my eyes away from reading the letter again, “Tony, Shield wants us to work with them in finding the perp.”

-

“Webs what were you fuc-” I crash into his chest as he closes the door, hissing between my teeth at the pain of having my left wrist jostled.

“... were you thinking.” His eyes widen at the sight of my face, my real face, without the mask. I try not to run, It makes it so much easier when my legs almost give out on me and the world spins.

“Hi Wade.” I cough out, feeling the tang of blood on my tongue, and when I lift my hand away I can see it there. He has backed away minutely at this point, leaving my holding myself up by my bare neck sticking to the back of the door as my legs wobble.

“It’s you. I know that but, it’s you.” He stares in shock for a moment until he snaps into cold anger like as one would treat someone that doesn’t know how much they’re hated, “Webs, you lied to me when you told me how old you were.” he says this with a slight chuckle, and I feel my eyes drawn to his when he stares at my face.

“I didn’t lie.” My voice comes out small, and for a second the deeper voice I project at all times fades away. I feel young, little, stupid. My mind hurts with pulses more than it has for the rest of the journey.

“You look fourteen, sixteen at most. You are not in college, you are a kid.”

“I’m in college, and I-I’m fifteen. Bu-” I try to swallow the worry and really, really tell him. To just bear my soul to somebody who isn’t goddamned Wanda.

“But what. I haven’t seen you in a month and you come back and tell me that you’re fifteen and just expect me to cope?” He sounds manic now, but I can barely hear that over the ringing in my ears.

“Yes.”

He sighs and calms himself down seemingly, “Is that why Stark doesn’t have you on the avengers, because you’re fifteen.”

“He doesn’t know.” My mind so desires to fight over whether or not I wish he knew. It just resigns to pulse like a bomb is going off even though my spidey sense has told it nothing.

“Stark. Doesn’t. Know. Isn’t he supposed to be the tracking god or something, he found out my identity soon enough.”

“You just don’t try.”

“Fair. God you shouldn’t be this risky, you’re just a kid.”

“You won’t be able to stop me.”

“That doesn’t stop me from feeling bad.”

“You know what Deadpool, maybe this is why I didn’t tell you earlier.” I almost say more until my throat closes with the need to cough, and I try to reduce the heavy wheezing sound that emits when I breathe.

“You’re getting it wrong Spidey. I don’t care that you’re a kid, it’s just.” He is already far away but he drifts farther and flops onto the couch. I would follow but the only thing keeping me standing is my stuckness to the door, “I’m trying to be a better person, ya know, and I just feel like I shouldn’t be endangering a kid.”

“You’re not endangering me.” I try to laugh it off with him, but IT HURTS.

“I know Spidey.” He stands up and walks over, “I’ll get over it. What matters more is that I haven’t seen you in a fucking month. What the hell?” the tone is lighthearted. I can tell, I think?

“I was busy.” the nausea mixes with regret. I spent the month on that darned machine.

The one that's rotting on a roof for everyone to see

My wonderful failure

“You sure were. Too busy to stop by on all those patrols you kept doing?” He tuts but I can’t recall any of that, just of dazed trips where I was operating off of adrenaline and medicine.

“I’m sorry, but I thought you’d notice if I did.” Notice would be a small word, my roommate was worried about me and he has known me far shorter a time than Deadpool. My mind flickers back to Sam before Wade forcefully drags it back.

“Notice what?” I try to open my mouth to tell him but nothing comes out, my mind just blanks and all I feel is a crushing migraine.

“Notice what Spidey.” His tone is more morose, and his heartbeat slightly faster. He walks closer, and maybe this time he’ll notice all my injuries. My mouth is dry and my mind unresponsive.

“I. I did something stupid.” Tony Stark would have told me not to, right? But I had no choice. Sleep wastes too much time, and I had a solution. Right? Right? right

“Stupid how. So stupid that …”

  
  


A̵̟̖̔͒̓̾̽̾̓̽̓͐͊̕A̷̗͛͐̀͌͗̇͗̿ͅA̸̧͔͎̳̻̜̫̝̝͙͔̺͓̅̑͂͛̈́̐̚̕Ä̶͔̤̘͙̬̳̜̮͓̣̲̙̻̦̈̈́̀̇̈́̓̈́ͅĀ̶̡̢̛͓̼̰̪͚͖̭̽̈́̒͊͛̑̾͐͘̚͜͠A̸̠̹̦̦̔̆̄̿̒͑A̸̲̮͓̰̰̅̚Ḁ̶̥̩̩͔̹͍̬̈̌̎̃̒Ả̸͓̝̘̲͔̈̏͗̄̄̿͒͂͠͠A̶̻̰͔̰̺̼͎̰͎̅͆̇͆̔͐͐̍͑͛̊͌͑͠͝A̵̩͓̪͎̥̙͂̈̌̌̀̉̈̈̅̂̋̿͑̓͠ͅA̵̛̹̝͊̓̾̏̈̈̐͂A̷̰̝͍̼̻̎Ȁ̸̧̭̤̭͙̖̼̪̟̉͜A̴̢̛̪̺̩͉͖̬͖̖͈̮̽͗̋͐̊̃͠ͅA̴̢̛͍̙̺͔͇͔̘͆̄̾̍̎̾̓̒̕͝Ã̵̢̻̩̌̓͆̆͌̒̂͛͜Ä̵͓̦͈͎̱̤̜̪͚́̂̾̒̊̇Ă̷̢̡̛̛͔͎͔̲̞̻̳̗͓̅̾͆̃̒͋͋̃͋̚Å̵̘̬͝Ȧ̸̱̞͛͂̄̏̃̏Ḁ̷̧̡̫̼̺̞̦̲͎̩͖̼͉̋̇̄̂͑̀̾͆͘̚͝͠͝͠Ă̵̯͉̼̹̇́̄̚͝͝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Sorry that I don't update incredibly often but I do try. Every comment counts! If anyone would like to beta for me It would make my year, I feel like this fic has gotten too much attention to be this bad.  
I have a history final in the morning.  
o h g o d


	17. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Pep have found him, and the truth is revealed to wade

“Hey Tony, shield did the blood tests and, well, they still want our help.” I ‘inconspicuously’ wipe away the blueprints from my desk, leaving room for Pep to put her enormous stack of papers when she sits down. The machine still sits in the corner, covered in soot inside and out, soot that has coated my hands.

“What do you mean want our help.” I huff a bit before going on, “I was going to go on anyways if they finally figured that out. Not like I’m letting the person who did this go.” Currently FRI is attempting to communicate with the government and SHIELD in order to use one of the chitauri cores for testing. As well as to find out how the person managed to get one in the first place.

“Well, they want you to talk to and work with the person, who they found. They think that with your help they might be able to turn the technology into something useful.”

“Wait. Wait, Pep. Five hours ago we were sure that they were dead as a doornail.”

“Don’t act surprised Tony, you were the one that sent them the footage.” The photos printed out and stuck up on the walls would give me away even if Pep didn’t know the type of video compression that FRIDAY uses.

“There’s no record of that…” There is no face that was caught on the camera, just bloodied flashes and a similar body type. FRI checks all of the cameras in the city in real time but it doesn’t seem like there is much hope. The man with them hasn’t been found either. But shield has found him, hopefully he’ll work with us.

“Well anyways, Shield wants you to recruit the person, although it is not going to be the easiest to find them. They were obviously trying to loose camera footage in the crowds, and probably isn’t located in his listed place of residence.”

“Who is it? I’d like to talk to this person,” I stay on edge, Pep sounds like she’s preparing me for something, “Preferably now.”

“Well then you’ll have to find him,” She drops a thick file in front of my face, “Shield's reasonably sure even with the discrepancies in the data results that the person is Peter Parker, fifteen year old college student in Queensborough.”

“A fifteen year old did this? A fifteen year old college freshman?” The child of Richard and Mary Parker who apparently had DNA in the system, a record full of perfect test scores and strange accounts, “Well he obviously looks like he shouldn’t be in college.” I end with a murmur, drawing the look of Pep.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? He’s a fifteen year old prodigy, like you Tones.” I draw out the essay on the top, labeled suspicious, skimming it over as Pep just resigns to look at me. Page one, page two, page three, the word skim through my mind with the fast absorption only a truly interested mind can achieve. My mind sizzles out and I read the words over and over again, then I slide it over to her.

“He got a zero on that paper, didn’t he?” I can’t help the slow trickle of anger in my voice, “The theories are correct, unreleased from my lab but correct. He found out and wrote a paper on the equations for the movement and testing of air turbulence, which nobody has done. He released groundbreaking scientific information that was just thrown in the trash.” I tap on the table with my left hand, “We weren’t even going to release our results until march, maybe may? And we were beaten by a fifteen year old community college student. He deserves a fucking PHD”

“Well, that makes this slightly worse. With the injuries that the agency spotted on camera he could be in for serious injury, maybe permanent brain damage.” my heart catches, “Because this reckless fifteen year old has not gone to the hospital.” She coughs, “And Wanda has agreed to go on lookout at the college for him, and found nothing so far.”

“Goddammit.” I stand up, walking over to the window to my armor hanger, a time sensitive mission raised over my head.

“Where are you going?”

“To the college, tell shield that I’m invested.” She knows that if he dies I’ll blame myself, a nausea that such a bright flame was extinguished. 

-

My mind flutters awake, but when something feels wrong I spring up into a ready position. I have to grit my teeth at the pain but I sit down once I notice that I’m in Wade’s apartment, but said pain is worryingly low. My mind hurts something fierce but the rest of my senses aren’t going haywire.

I pass over my injuries again, noting the far better splints attached to both legs and my left wrist, but I feel under those that the breaks are healed. They’re in a delicate stage but obviously healed, my wrist seems almost unusable.

I methodically start the process of stabilizing the bones first by taking off the splint, then feeling over the injuries. My right leg seems to be either completely healed or near, so I take off the splint completely and focus on the other one, grimacing at the still poor state that it is in. So I re purpose all of the makeshift leg splints into one that seems strong enough to walk on without putting weight on the knee. 

I sit there, adjusting my wrist splint when I hear him enter. His footsteps are quiet but I can hear the voices of everyone in a quarter mile radius if I try, so I look up.

“Spidey,” His voice is deep, and somewhere deep in my soul I associate it with the long mornings hanging around with food and cats, an association with home. He stops next to the couch looking down at me with something that could almost be mistaken for concern, if the person wasn’t Wade Wilson.

“My name is Peter,” the room is silent, “If you wanted to know.” my ears reflexively focus on the purring of Alicia in the other room

“Peter Parker and Wade Wilson, the alliteration gang.” He raises an eyebrow before setting a plate full of waffles down in front of me. I dig in as soon as he puts them down, my endless metabolism rearing its ugly head.

“How did you-” I say in between bites, eating food to quench the endless hunger that tears at the sides of my ribs.

“I can look people up Spidey, a fifteen year old college prodigy isn’t exactly hard to find.” He eyes me down as I shovel food into my mouth, “You look like shit.” The comment hits at the vanity I don’t have.

“I know.” I eat food until the nausea from my awful injuries surpasses the gaping hunger that I feel, resorting to sit down and look at the man who is looking at me, “Do you still have the stuff I left here?” I say, referring to the bag I leave under his sink for my visits.

“Yup.” He says that, prompting me to force my injured legs to the bathroom, looking in the mirror at my incredibly bloodied and bruised face. My super healing has obviously been stretched, as tiny cuts that would normally heal before I notice them littler my face. The bruising is a deep black ish purple yellow, and blood is still actively seeping from a cut above my hairline.

With cleaning and the careful application of medical webbing my face is far better, but I use concealer to remove the marks of bruising and the webs. The rest of the injuries are decently hidden by the spare clothes that I change into.

“What the fuck did you do? And why didn’t you invite me?” Wade’s voice greets me when I step out of the bathroom looking decently presentable.

“Im not from this time.” Slips out of my mouth after just a moment, something that I was waiting to mention until the buzzing of my mind settled down to something in which I could think, “Time travel.” I mumble.

“You can’t just leave something at that.”

“I’m eighteen, and” My memories tear through my vision in a way that hurts, “and I got teleported back here at the eve of the apocalypse.”

“The apocalypse is in three years?” The line hits me like a brick, ans soon I feel myself nodding.

“Yes.” I say with a finality that shuts up his questions, a topic so obviously guarded in a way that I had no idea.

“When did you come back?” He settles for after a moment

“Back in January, and, I failed. I’m sorry Wade, Yesterday I failed at the tests. I’ve failed us all, and the world will go up in flames. I don’t even know what I thought I was doing.” I breathe in, letting for the first time in months for my breath to hitch in my throat and bring up the welling of tears, “I was so reckless, and If I died, If I died the only person who would know of the future is Wanda.”

“Spi-Peter. What did you do?”

“I tried to use the leftover Chitauri energy to react with the portal remnants above Avengers Tower. If they get the tech, maybe they can finally have a chance when they decide to fight back. But I miscalculated, too much of the energy was let off into thermal and visual radiation that there wasn’t enough to support a stable and balanced reaction.”

“Webs, tell me what that means in real person speak.”

“The reaction didn’t balance, and it exploded. I’m an idiot, such an idiot for thinking that I even had a chance to do it in a month, Tony Stark could, but me. I had no chance.” Alicia jumps into my lap so I scratch the back of her ears, “I just. I need to go fast, we have so little time.”

“Peter, how’d you do it in a month?”

“I didn’t sleep. Specific mixes of over the counter energy drinks and coffees react strangely with my mutations, and you know. I didn’t have the time to waste on sleeping.”

“Dumbass kid, everyone knows the all nighter limit is five.”

“Oops.”

“Well you can make it up to me, take care of the fucking cat with me this time, the old hag likes you better.” I nod, and at the same que Alicia purrs loudly in a strangely human sound, “And you’ll be accompanying me on bad guy patrols.”

“Deal Wade. I-I have to go right now, but thank you.” I look up at the clock on his microwave, “I have class in an hour, and I don’t want my roommate to worry about me.”

“Spidey?” I look back around, already flinching at the weight I put on my leg by standing up, “You’re your own special kind of stupid.” His face is turned to a nice calm smile, and I rush over to him with a large hug that I feel content to just die in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this short chapter, I wanted to release something and I just couldn't write the next part yer.


	18. The changes from last time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony meet in a mildly awkward reunion

The sun shines slivers through the slatted draping in front of the window, providing a soft light that is perfect to read by in a wispy way. Sam sits with his back to the window resting on the flattened bean bag that rests there, in his lap the behemoth of his physics textbook. He is listening to rock cover of Beethoven’s ninth symphony at a soft level, letting the tune drag him into a wakeful state.

There’s a knock on the door, Sam looks up from his book, shrugging the earbuds out of his ears as he pads over to the door. His hair is mussed and he’s wearing sweatpants but he doesn’t have class today, and plans on hanging around the dorm trying to do homework.

He opens the door not to his roommate notably absent in a way that echoes through the small room, but the imposing figure of the larger than life man Tony Stark. The man has a serious expression on that turns Sam’s throat dry, suddenly feeling deeply embarrassed for being messy. He steps back as Stark walks into the room and looks around.

“Are you the roommate to Peter Parker?” He asks, and Sam simply nods in order to not spill his frantic bouncing thoughts that wonder why TONY STARK is here for his roommate, “Can you answer some questions about him?”

“Uhh-” He coughs to clear his throat, ‘I-h Guess?” He dares not ask why Peter is being searched for, too worried of hearing what response would occur.

“Do you know where Peter Parker is?” The overdressed man looks around the dorm, but ends up sitting on the bed while Sam fiddles and curls his toes standing in front of him.

“He’s probably at his Aunt’s or friend’s house, his friend Ned I think?”, Stark keeps a level stare, “H-he also goes out running a lot, and might be in the mess hall. I think his physics 101 class starts in like 10ish minutes so …”

He rubs something on his wrists and starts talking into them, in a volume Sam can only just hear, “Check the house of May Parker, a friend named Ned, the college mess hall, the physics 101 class and around the campus.”, then he looks back up, “Is there anything that has seemed off about Peter Parker?”

“He-” memories flash by Sam as he pauses to think, “He’s really anxious and stressed about things, but for like no reason. He already knows the curriculum of his classes back and front because ‘what if he misses a day’.”

“Is there anything more?”

“He’s like really muscly, but he always refuses to check out the school gym with me, and I really don’t want to do anything there alone because I’d feel awkward …” He trails off muttering things as his face gains in blush.

“I’m not gonna lie kid, I need to know more information. Your roommat-” He was quietly yelling, but with the creaking of the door he goes silent. Peter walks through the door, obviously beaten up but in a way that you can’t tell at a distance, a slight limp, a discolored face, hiding his left wrist protectively at his side. Seemingly in a daze he walks over to the beanbag that Sam was sitting on earlier and lounge with a large yawn.

“Shud-up,” Peter says with a yawn, in response to the look that Sam was giving him because Peter didn’t notice the billionaire sitting on his bed looking at him like he turned water into wine. Sleepily he grabs a bottle of tylenol, skillfully concealing the fact that instead of one or two he downed a handful.

“Oi, Pete,” Sam and Tony share a look as Peter lays down closing his eyes, mildly stretching but mainly in an absentminded way.

“Mmhmm?” He looks up with heavy eyes at Sam, before something in his peripheral snaps out to him, slapping his eyes over to Tony Stark. Peters eyes widen as his heartbeat races, just barely suppressing the urge to go into Spider-man’s battle pose, even though he figures that Tony stark knows what that would reveal anyway. It doesn’t even cross his mind that Tony Stark could be there because of last night’s actions, but instead has his memory of typing in the phone number playing on repeat. Peter thought he could trust Tony Stark, he should have been able to, he was able to trust Mr. Stark. 

“Why are you here?” Peter chooses to go with, trusting what should not be trusted, Iron Man’s subtlety. His voice is wobbly and a sense uncertain, for which prompts the worried look of Sam

“I am impressed with your engineering skills. You have been accepted to the R&D position of lead researcher of S.P.O.C.K..” Tony’s voice is cheery but his eyes don’t match the tone, eyes that are hard, worried, and clearly say that no matter what the words imply, there isn’t truly a choice there.

“I … accept.” Peter looks around, drawing up on reserves of courage in order to stand still and tall in front of something that his gut is screaming is a trap to be arrested. Tony Stark is the key. Peter trusted him, Peter trusts him? Sacrifice is nothing new but the cowardly vestiges of humanity are pulling on the logos of needing to escape to save the world.

“Wonderful!” This is the first time that the smile reaches Tony’s eyes, and Sam seems to have picked up on Peter’s uncomfort enough to be worried himself, “Let's get going back to the tower now so we can start up right away.” He turns and starts to walk away, motioning for Peter to follow.

But as Peter intends to walk over Sam places a hand on his arm, when he looks back around Sam mouths as clearly as he can, ‘You don’t have to.’, but Peter does his best to put on a reassuring smile.

Peter walks out of the room, tailing behind Tony as they walk to a black limousine in the school parking lot, and Peter can tell by the smell alone that this was the exact same limousine that took me the first time around, where they knew his face and age and thought of him nothing. He hears Tony mutter to the watch to turn off the search, which turning Peter’s stomach.

When they get into the limousine Happy turns the divider up, and Tony looks to be bursting with both what I can recognize as anger and curiosity.

“How’d you survive?” he starts off with, blunt and curt.

“I used a parachute, all I got was sprains and bruises.”, Looking at the other man brings up too many memories, Peter’s twitchy sleep deprived mind making it only worse. Tony seems to accept the answer, opening his mouth immediately to ask another.

“Why?” Why? WHY? Peter barely knows himself, an idea founded in blind fear and fruitful anxiety. But the truth threatens to pull itself out his lips and he just can’t have that.

“Because, because humans need to be a player in the universe.” He goes with the truth in bits and pieces but obviously it is not nearly enough for Tony. But the older man knows the value in not scaring away a dangerous entity, “Something terrible and awful will tear apart the last scraps of humanity after they annihilate them more than the strongest nuke ever could. The Asgardians will fall,” Peter looses concept of time and looses himself in the wading pool of memory, letting the offhand words of Dr. Strange on that ship repeat “And when that happens humanity won’t have a choice, reduced to wailing children.”

“Do you really think that will happen?” Worried eyes look at the one who can’t see them.

“It is inevitable.” he repeats after memory Thanos, then shakes his head to break out of it, “What do you actually want from me? Because all you need is the method of passing artificial gravity waves through the chitauri crystal to turn it into a temporal bend. Simple, easy, two week work and then are you going to fire me?”If this had been shown to the Peter of before he wouldn’t recognize himself, the purity and carefree nature tainted by an ever growing gaping void of anxiety where there had previously been fun. He may not of recognized himself visually at first either, this ‘new’ person having the analytical eyes of a calculating genius, the sickly tone to the body that was hypothetically perfect but at the moment far more muscled than it had ever been. Black bags paint right under his eyes, and hair has gotten long enough to be pulled back into a small bun where the spine meets skull. Instead of the clumsy nature of a kid with new powers, he had the grace of a cat with a cat’s mildly silent demeanor.

“The fact that you think that is exactly why we need you,” need -not want? “You are wasted at community college, we could provide you with a better education than a college could ever give you. If that’s even necessary, you obviously have enough of an understanding of physics and mathematics to make groundbreaking theories.” he chuckles, “You could probably outshine me in at least a few fields.”

“I can’t.”, he breathes out and lets his mind think of efficiency and numbers, almost slipping into the meditation like space, “Thank you for offering this, it is immensely beneficial and I am gratified. Thank you, I apologize for being harsh earlier.”

“No need to be formal with me kid, lets get inside.”

They walk into the enormous lab, large, professional ,and imposing. In the center sits the machine that defies logic and looks the most out of place, metal bent from scrap to form the supports and most coated in a thick layer of rust and disintegration. Every sensor that could be reasonably thought up sits on the walls, a department the size of a floor and seemingly spawned from nowhere.

Cameras watch from all directions, and the walls are braced with titanium pylons. The walls are nearly soundproofed, but in the silence of the other along with him Peter can still hear the echoes of life from other floors. Protective equipment of all sorts rests inside the open lockers near the door, and with practically an airlock between the elevator and the lab Peter wonders what this was used for previously. 

Tony pulls up a stool at the front of the lab, motioning for Peter to sit there as well, the size of the room dwarfs them both, but Peter feels the presence more. The man stands up, activating something on the bottom of the desk that Peter didn’t notice before. 

“The cameras and audio are off now. I’ve got to be honest with you kid, SHIELD’s got an eye out on you and that’s not necessarily a good thing,” he clears his throat as he folds and passes a sheet of paper to Peter, “You’re on the radar now and you just might not escape.”

“You’re stuck on the radar then, how did you find me? I took lengths to give over the tech but not be found while doing it. I don’t want to be on their radar.” The piece of paper goes into his pocket, and Peter fidgets with the edges of it.

“Fat fucking lengths then Pete,” He sounds too much like Mr. Stark, the Mr. Stark I left on titan, “The machine is burnt out and destroyed, nobody can tell what in the cheese whizzed american future what you did there.”

“I told you, I passed the gravity waves through t-” Peter doesn’t deserve to have Mr. Stark look at him like he reinvented the world, every invention was a theory, a test, a bit of knowledge that Mr. Stark had shown Peter last time around. Some were in the research journals that Peter poured over instead of sleeping or doing homework last time around, and some were caught in discussions that Peter heard Mr. Stark have with Dr. Banner. . Peter deserved none of the credit and bile rose in his throat with the thought, as Peter knows he is just a useless teenager.

“That means nothing to us, sure useful as soon as we can artificially produce gravity waves but do you know how impossible that is right now?” Tony had been steadily increasing in volume until he catches himself, seemingly bringing himself down to reality, “Ok. We can do the science talk later when we work on the project, but you look like shit and I’d rather you not keel over mid test.”

Peter felt like shit.

“How did you find me?”

“We tested the blood that you left all over that machine over there. And that's how I know, and tactfully didn’t mention in front of your roommate, you are still injured.” Most of the damage left is internal, thank-you-very-much.

“It’s just bruising.” He feels defensive in a way that he hasn’t since May knew he was Spider-man and each night would come into the room to bandage his wounds. No matter how many times he would tell her that it would be done by morning, and that he wasn’t hurt she cared anyways.

The man sighs before dropping the subject but not without another worried look,“Do you want to talk about your employment terms? It must be exciting to be promoted to the lead researcher of S.P.O.C.K.? Space Portals Open Collection of Knowledge.”

“Can’t you not employ a fifteen year old?”

“I talked to your Aunt, and she accepted.” He slides a contract in front of Peter, who takes it and reads very carefully, “By the way you should talk to her,she’s worried about you.” And then he hears the same click, and knows that SHIELD is watching and listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live in hope for the day when I can write well. Oof. I hope someone likes this chapter! Please comment, I love it when people do!


	19. Blue light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AAAAH

I pause before I swing open the door, “Hey May! I’m home!” When I shout I can hear her heartbeat increase, and it makes a smile across my face.

“Pete?” She bends around from the corner a face with a full on grin, “I’d hug you but my hands are covered in dough.” I look over and see, but without hesitation run over and hug her. I can feel her chuckle as she embraces me.

“I missed you sweetie.” She whispers into my hair that still manages to form a poof even though it’s longish, I hug her tighter but still have to subconsciously restrain my strength.

“I missed you too May. I’m sorry that I haven’t visited, I’ve been busy a-” She hugs me as close as she can without her hands touching my back, leading to a strange elbow hug, but then she pulls back and looks me in the eyes with such warmth.

“There’s nothing wrong Petey Pie you make me so proud, a job with Tony Stark? College? What’s next, rocket science?” I look up and see that her hair is pulled back into a bun like mine, and even though we’re not related by blood we’re related.

“Maybe.”, and Tony Stark would argue that what i’ve done is far more than rocket science, I know it.

“Come, come on to the kitchen. I’m making bread, not exciting I know.” I follow behind, trying to keep my walk even so that she doesn’t notice the slight limp that still clings to my legs.

“I like bread.” I sit down on the counter and watch as May goes back to kneading a big sticky loaf of bread, something that looks and smells appetizing 

“I know you do, Ben and I had to force you to eat anything but for a whole mont-”

“Maaaayyy” She smiles, I smile, and we both descend down into a fit of giggling that practically screams at me with a unexpected urge to sit there and ball my eyes out. Gotta fake it till you make it though, and I choose to ignore anything but the bubbling happiness.

“Whaat. I get to tease you. Ooh Pete I almost forgot! There’s a letter for you on the counter, right there in front of you. Gosh it came a few weeks ago but I can’t seem to remember it when I’m not looking at it. Hope my memory’s not going off.”

“I’m sure it's not.” I pick it up and read the front, It’s from Steven Strange. Great, I liked not thinking about the apocalypse.

  
  
  


It’s a bank robbery, the alarms roused me from my sleep and dragged me to the scene of the crime. A blue light shines through the window, casting chilling shadows across the street that a peanut gallery has gathered to watch. I bite back my aching wounds to listen in.

The police are so incredibly loud that I can barely hear from inside, and something has made it so that the blue light completely blinds me to whatever is inside, but I can hear the telltale signs of life, even though I can’t tell what. I strain closer, hiding in the alley next to where the back door is, trying to see the situation to see if I chan he-

“Spidey! I’m so glad you’re here.” A police member pulls me to the side with a sharp jerk on the arm, I look up to see a blonde man who looks slightly too old for his hair to be a straw sort of yellow, “I have a plan that would risk an officer too much if you didn’t arrive, you’ve saved lives today Spidey.”

“Always happy to help!” My head pounds and I have to swallow down my unease through a dry nauseous throat, “What is the plan, I better not be detonating a bomb or something.”

“Oh oh of course not Spider-man, we wouldn’t do that to you. There’s only one perp and we’ve done heatscans to prove that there are no more, so when we lure him out for negotiations we want you to sneak in and rescue the hostages.” He gives a sheepish smile and rubs the back of his head, looking back at the crime scene and line of police.

“How can you tell that there’s only one.” I look over and see the blue light, so bright that nothing else can be seen beyond it and I have to force myself to look for even long enough to find that it’s useless. My head pounds in a few more beats, beat beat beat ….

He gives me a strange look, “We’ve only seen one and we’ve done more checks.” I quickly look back then look back up at the man, who is looking at the blue light.

“Alright. Of course. I can do this. Thanks good officers!” I walk to the back door, sticking myself to the ceilings and clinging by the tips of my fingers, waiting for the signal. When I see the criminal walk to the door I make my move. Grabbing the lock, and with speed and silence crush the handle in my grip, leaving the door to swing open silently.

I flatten myself to avoid notice, letting nobody see the figure I cast by avoiding the disgusting flat panel lights. But there is a man there, unlike the notice I was given, but he can’t see me as I hang right above him.

I hit him in the mouth with a piece of web, right before I stick him to myself with powers and raw grip, pressing the hand to the popcorn texture and sticking him piece by piece. I can see the murder in his eyes as I scuttle away, trying to reach for the weapon that I hadn’t seen on him.

I go further in, reaching closer and closer to a door that shines through the faintest of blue light. Theres no other path to take, just the direction that makes a headache flare up and my eyes water, so I man up and sneak into the room.

I notice how the blue light is far less intense back here but I still have to rely on my darkened goggles to see even slightly, squinting my eyes until the light is also blocked out by the eyelashes that form a dark curtain to my sight. There is nobody there, so I carefully crawl over to the center.

But my hand slips, or maybe it was my breathing or perhaps a tripwire, or something that I can’t even sense because of the blaring pressure into my ears that hurts so much it burns. I get hit in the side with something that makes me want to vomit and steals my ability to breathe. 

Out of practically the walls descends a group of people, maybe tens, maybe just two, but I am swarmed on all sides. They take distance, and don’t block nearly enough of the light as I would wish, firing shots of something into my body that just hurts. Probably bullets, maybe a sort of tranquilizer, but even with my senses blinded I still can manage to dodge nearly every single one of them.

And then I strike.

For each bullet that I feel coming I fire back a strand of web, launching myself over to the person and pinning them into the floor, destroying the weapon I can feel. 

-Tony POV-

I was woken up in the night by the blaring sensors that I had placed for FRI, Spiderman was seen and this time I wanted to talk to him. Something just tugs at me, maybe guilt, maybe, something in Parker made me remember how much I wanted to talk to Spidey.

I fly over there, getting used to the pinches and unforgiving surfaces of the armor, with the wind whipping across my face for the second time today, letting FRI guide me to the bank robbery. I get there lightning fast, at most two minutes, and land to the scene.

There is a police line, behind which the police hide behind giant barriers as bullets rain from inside the bank. There seem to be ten or so combatants surrounding spiderman as he madly jumps between them, but he is covered in blood. 

I burst into the scene, barely regarding my own safety as the bullets bounce off of my armor, but by the time that I get through the door the last one is being pinned to the ground, and finally webbed up. The last shot fires into Spidey himself who barely even flinches, just getting off of the man and crouching into ready position.

“Hey Kid, it’s over. C’mon.”

“Mr. Stark?” He sounds so confused, and young. When I look again I see that instead of the bleeding bullet holes he is frantically rubbing at his head. Then he seems to remember himself, fiddling around with something from his belt.

“Of course, your eyes do not deceive, I am here in the flesh.” I watch in mild fascination as he pulls away the lines of his suit to seal the bullet wounds with a kind of webbing, obviously they still need medical attention but the technology has amazing promise.

“My eyes would deceive me if I could see. Hey Mr. Stark, do you know how to turn off the blinding light.” I furrow my brow, and let my mind pass through all the injuries that the symptoms could indicate, he would have to go back to Banner to make sure.

“Let's go outside.” Spider-man follows close behind me as we exit the building, opening a floodgates where the police replace our presence, I look at the young hero, trying not to have guilt bubble up as I see the practically sickly muscled and skeletal body through the lines of the suit. The kid needs to get some food in him.

“Damn, you never notice what you can see until you can’t.” I look back down at him ,and he is looking around, for something. But he stops, letting out a hiss as he clutches his head.

“Are you alright?” I mouth to FRI to do a medical scan, and the list of problems is both extensive and worrying, but none are currently life threatening to his system. I need to force myself to stop from being to casual and close to the vigilante.

“Oh,” he groans in pain, “I think I know what it is. They tried to surprise attack me or something, maybe kidnapping, i don’t know.” Spidey places both hands over his ears and nearly screams, but then stops short.

“And that has what to do with a head wound.” I look over him, planting my feet to the ground, scanning over the report that FRI gave me, where did he get and still maintains a fracture in the leg. Why is he even still walking?

“I hear it now, its like a dog whistle,” he pauses to full body cough, “god, a spider whistle.” The cough is awful, wet and thick in a way that makes it sound as if he cannot breathe. But after it ended one could just nearly hear the whistling wheeze of the voice.

“You should come back to the tower,” I pause, something catching in my throat, “To fix up those bullet wounds.”

“I’m not going to tell you who I am.” And the suspicion comes back ramming full force, the vaguely casual post battle talk turns into the kid furiously trying to hid anything distinctive.

“I’m not asking Spidey boy,” I stop myself from mentioning just how much I want to know “By the way, I could find out if I tried. You gave me your number.” He pauses, going rigid and sinking back into a combat position, “What? Worried I’m going to prank call you or something kid. I’m not going to investigate you or something.

“It’s nothing.” Spidey jerks back into a more human like posture and stance.

“So, come on I’m giving you a ride back to the tower, just hold on tight.” This time he nods, and god if that isn’t the thing that worried me most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omgt sorry I released this late, I'm really busy rn but hopefully I can update more soon. I really hope somebody likes this still, I mean I do but yeah.


	20. Bandages that only bleed through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony talk as Peter bleeds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the chapter! I hope you like it, even if it's bad I will still hope.

\---PETER POV-----

“You took quite a beating there kid,” I try not to wince as he peels off the top layer of my suit from my arm, hoping that if I can only hide my pain he will think I’m the real deal of hero. My head swims when the blood is revealed, coating my arm like a sort of sleeve, “This is worse than I thought.”

“It’s nothing.” I bite out, wiping away the blood only for more of it to bleed from under my skin.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I freeze, “Brucie is on his way to patch you up for real, but I’m going to put bandages on you.” He walks over to gather a first aid kit, and conveniently my eyes decide to black out for a moment, returning to normal shortly after he returns to my side.

“I have work in the morning, I don’t have the time to get bandaged.” But I still don’t protest as he continues to wrap the cloth around my arm, layering more and more as it is just bled through.

“Like you’d have the time to be dead?” He throws a look at me, one far too worried to be looking at me. 

“I'll be fine.” I clench my teeth as wraps a tourniquet around my upper arm, tightening until it stops the blood with more than just a little pain.

“Maybe so, But I can’t have New York’s Spidey dying on me.” He starts to work on my leg, and before I can stop him he has torn off the suit to see the obviously broken leg that has just returned to pain after adrenaline wore off, “Were you not going to tell me about this?” He gestures at the leg.

“I wasn’t planning on doing any fighting today.” This time when the leg is bandaged it hurt far far more than the arm, trying to tear away the last vestiges of courage that I wear to stop crying.

“Then why did you.”

“I could hear the alarms from my house,” The ones that sound in my dreams like church bells calling, “I-Ih just couldn’t let somebody die in it.” With great power comes great responsibility, I have such responsibility too too much for me and sometimes.

“The person to die in it could easily have been you. And I think you know that.” I hear his heartbeat, before he mutters under his breath, “And the avengers call me the reckless one.”

“I think the reckless one is Thor, Mr. Stark.” A morbid laugh slips from my face, and a calling of my past that roars with anger to Thanos.

“Call me Tony.” He smiles that smile from days long past that I thought I would never see. It takes more effort than is allowable for me to not call out my name as well. 

“I can’t do that.” I say through grit teeth, trying not to show how much my head swims, a person with any less resolve would have shut eyes to the eternal darkness.

“You ignored what I said earlier. You knew that you could have been the one to die in that.” If somebody were to ask me anything about the moment I would be unable to tell them, except for the words. Those stood out like clear glass to the murky swamp water of the rest.

“Yes. But I can’t just sit by and let myself hear the screams as somebody dies.” I yell, as loud and fast as I can with my tongue as heavy as lead.

“Then let us help you. Devote full time into it so you can get some rest some of the time.” He fusses over me like a worried parent, like he used to after the ferry incident.

“I still have things to do when I’m not Spidey.” I breathe out slowly to prevent the wet cough that I feel rising in my chest, “Maybe those things are more important in the long run.”

“You save people Spidey.” His scoff is nearly as big as his ego. 

“Hey can I ask you something.” He starts to work with full intensity on my arm, simply scowling at me when he notices the evidence of my recently damaged wrist.

“Mmmm?”

“Don’t take off my mask under any circumstance.” I choke out, feeling my face bleed and realizing the situation as the work surrounding hits me as a rock would. 

“I could find you if I wanted. I still have your phone number.” His tone is too light for the fact that his arms were coated with nearly as much blood as mine. Maybe my head is light because of the shock, but I've never had that happen before no matter how much blood I looked at.

“Can you, can you delete that?”

“You can trust me Spidey. You know the offer still stands.” He stands up and goes to wash off his hands, “To be part of the avengers that is.”

“And I still have to deny.” No matter how much it pains me, no matter how much this is my end goal I just can’t.

“Why?” I don’t know.

“Because I’m still not good enough.”

“What would it take for you to be good enough Webs?”

“Not being the weakest member of the team.” That is a memory that sticks like endless glue, the constant of the end, with me, me being the thing that lead to Thanos there. If I was just a little better, a little stronger.

Stark’s words knock me out of my mind, but of course he has no idea that happened at all, “You beat them at the airport battle? What else could you want.”

“They weren’t trying.” I echo Stark’s own words from long ago, and his truth must stay constant to him, right?

“Yes they were,” he lets out a laugh, looking back at the door and me before pressing something on his watch, “I’ve never seen Wanda that desperate, and you went toe to toe with her.” He’s flattering me, but I can’t seem to bring it up.

“Maybe its who I am under the mask hmm?” Self hatred rises around me like a shield that I have for nothing else, burning brighter than the failed portal.

“You’re spidey. Under that mask you will still be Spidey. The spidey that has saved more lives than maybe even me.” Footsteps echo down the hallway, but I can’t seem to tell how far away. Mr. Stark just sits down next to me, seemingly not caring about the blood.

“Not under the mask. What if you saw me and..” My head swims and I loose my words, blotches flashing in front of my vision as I fight nausea.

“And what” He sees none of it, and maybe maybe I want him to see.

“And you don’t take me seriously.” My words fall to just over a whisper, but instead of feeling like I got something off my chest it feels like I only added more pressure.

“And what would make me not take you seriously?”

“I don't know! The fact that nobody does because I’m fifteen!” With the impulsiveness that clouds my view I would not be surprised if granted a wish, I wished to take back the words instead of getting rid of Thanos.

“Peter?” Before I can realize whether or not that really happened the door opens. We both quiet, and look up to see Banner in the doorway.

“That-” Sitting on the table, slowly waiting for myself to bleed out I don’t notice anything but the swimming of my head.

“Yes, I know who's in my own house smart guy.” Looking up it’s Stark and Dr. Banner standing in the doorway, looking at me like i’m an object. I never realized that Stark walked over.

“Nice to meet you.” I croak out as I look to see the worried looks on the faces, but I am too tired to care whatever they think. My eyelids just feel so heavy now, and It can’t hurt to sleep. Though the little part of my mind that stole all of the brains today nags at me to stay awake.

“Hi Mr. Banner, I really like you-” I reach my hand out to shake his, but when he does his hand gets covered in blood. 

Stark loudly interjects, “Quit the smalltalk. Hey Brucie, Spidey is bleeding out right over here”, Banner walks over to a sink and starts to sterilize. His tone is curt, maybe something about the, well realization.

“I’m fine.” My body covered in bandages that apply the same amount of pressure as my light punch says otherwise, but my healing factor should take care of it.

“I can see the blood.” Mr Stark looks at me, and If I look long enough I can almost believe his eyes hold the same memories as mine. Then he steps back and Mr. Banner steps forward, a clipboard in his hand and eyes full of worry.

“What injuries do you have?” I don’t catch whoever asked me that, so instead I pause and look anywhere but the faces in the room. In a glance over I see that Mr. Banner’s clipboard has a long list already on it, but my eyes refuse to focus at the moment. It’s probably something boring anyways.

“I’ve been shot, and my head hurts like I slammed it into concrete.” I speak slowly and carefully, trying my best to not let my words slur like some idiotic teenager or child.

“You did.” I have trouble remembering what we just talked about, but panic never seems to rise. Just unbearable tiredness.

“Deeetails.” Mr voice drawls and drags a laugh out with it, paired with an undeniable rush of loopiness. Banner pauses, and something akin to panic flashes on his face.

“I’m going to have to put you under, in order to remove the bullets and patch you up.” He’s speaking mostly to himself now, or is he, it’s becoming harder and harder to keep track. My eyes droop no matter how much I don’t want them to.

“How?” Mr. Stark sounds worried, I don’t really know why. He always knew what anesthesia I need. I doubt he forgot when I got stabbed a few years back.

“I don’t know.” I succumb to the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I guess I have more time to write now. I was so busy but now with coronavirus. Well I have time lets just say.  
I hope tat you liked the chapter. TBH it was really hard to write because I don't think I can write good enough to give something to the people who read this fic. Like OMG how did this happen. It's not a good enough fic for that, just a shitty writer writing things over the course of a morning.


	21. The worry of a parent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the wounds, the aftermath of the realization.

-TONY POV-

“Is, is he going to be alright?” I ask feeling my mind burn with fear over the kid -no not just a kid, an actual child- that lays on the bed like a corpse. There would be nothing to show that he wasn’t, except for the slight movement of his chest. Every rib shows, but with the horrible injuries and swellings it would be impossible to count them. 

“Most likely, his vitals are normal and his healing factor seems to have kicked in.” Brucie looks over near the computer, reading a few more vitals again, “Seems alright. I was worried about how effective the healing factor would be with the,” He waves over near the bed. Motioning at the disturbing sight, a body seemingly void of anything but muscle. Skeletal like a deformed demon.

“Wouldn’t his body start deconstructing the muscle if it needed the energy?” I fiddle with the sheets on the edge of the bed, discarded to the side so that Brucie could meddle with the sensors, “It seems like the body should prioritize survival instead of the muscle structure. We should test this if we can when he wakes up Brucie, it seems there would be some concerning effects if his body maintained muscle instead of his health.” When I end my tirade Bruce just sighs and picks up talking.

“It’s less easy for his body to consume, and the healing factor seems to work on speed. He’s a lot like Steve, maybe even stronger if I was to guess by the videos.” I don’t look at Brucie while he talks, trying to not let my leg bounce too much, trying not to look at Spidey because I know his face. A fifteen year old that might have died because I treated the medical treatment as not urgent. Bruce speaks and I almost don’t catch it, “What’s he like?”

“He’s intense,” Both Peter and Spidey flash by my eyes, and I realize I was thinking more about Peter, “He jokes around with the others, and he has a knack for odd solutions to things.” I breathe in, noting how Bruce’s quick typing is unnerving in a way of total repetition, no changes in tempo or rhythm of the clacking.

“So more like you than Steve.” Bruce mutters to himself absentmindedly, as he carefully connects a few more machines to Spidey’s body, but I can’t get myself to care all that much. The kid is already covered in as many sensors as one could imagine.

“He’d probably be more like Steve if he wasn’t so, well efficient. He knocked out Sam before I knew the kid was fighting or that Sam was even there. A bit scary honestly.” I try to devote my attentions to the window, watching the blur or cars as my eyes droop in and out of focus. When the room echoes with silence I let my mouth run, “God I worry about that kid, he takes everything harder than Steve.”

“I’m not that kind of doctor Tony, but that really doesn’t sou-” I can hear my mind echo out the end of the sentence, and choose to interrupt instead.

“I know.” I swallow with a dry throat, “I really thought the kid would latch onto the first chance he got, I mean this is the avengers, but well. I don’t know, I guess with each time he rejects it just makes me think more and more how he’s just,”

“Self destructive?”

“You could say that,”

“I am expecting you to make sure he carries out my medical advice, I’m leaving it right he-” Even though many of my fellow teammates would try to attest otherwise, I notice immediately when Bruce cuts off his speech, and am by his side in moments.

“What?” Bruce flinches, probably missing the fact I snuck up on him. Just when I’m about to jump out of my skin with the tension -although really it wasn’t more than thirty seconds- Bruce sighs and calms back down.

“Spider-man has an 102 degree fever,” He looks over to see my sour look tinged with concern, “It should be alright, Steve’s medical results report similar things.” Maybe Bruce doesn’t intend to still look so incredibly worried, but that alone sows doubts about just how healthy that could be.

“Oh,” I don’t resign myself back to the seat as Bruce so obviously wants me to, “Is there anything that could have, well stopped all of this.” 

“I'm going to be honest here Tony, he would have sustained a significant amount less injuries if he wasn’t wearing this.” He holds up the tattered remains of the suit, the only missing part being on Peter’s head. The material is still fabric, but a sort of incredibly strange fabric that seemingly could be a godsend of a material for anything but a combat suit. 

“I tried to give him one, but he refused. Made specific alterations and named the AI Karen, but gave it back.” The suit is still in the building, in the workshop and continues to be improved but I refuse to tell Bruce that.

“Well I think you need to help him, maybe he doesn’t want to be given a multi-million dollar suit a few months after becoming a hero.” I nearly protest, but there is no reason to. Words die short at the wounded hero’s bullet wounds. I refuse to let myself blame him, no matter how easy it would be.

The silence stretches on after that, but soon I interrupt it with one of my countless questions.

“Anyways Brucie, care to tell me why I found you a night ago hulked out in the middle of new york?” Bruce looks at me with barely contained contempt at the change in subject, but just lets it play.

“You’ve asked me this already Tony.” It really was strange though, and I am curious. Bruce must know something more than he does.

“I’m asking if you have remembered.” Bruce looks at me, before sighing and looking back at the screen. Even though it’s still on the heart monitor, far too slow for a normal person. Hopefully spidey will allow testing of the superhuman abilities because I don’t know how much I could resist taking notes.

“No Tony, I have no idea. I don’t remember anything since Ultron.” We both pause when Spider-man coughs loudly, Bruce looking to watch his condition, and I simply watch to stew even more in guilt. The idea of Bruce having lost such a large chunk of memory is quite disturbing though. Perhaps he was kidnapped and experimented on

“Huh, wonder why nobody saw a roaming Hulk, if you still think that's what you spent your time on.” I don’t, very much not, but we both know that.

“Tony. You probably know more than I do, just ask another avenger. Maybe they know.” He sounds fed up with me, and he deserves to be. I am a useless friend who didn’t find him for ages.

“I was there Brucie. We couldn’t track you and then you showed up way later hulked out in the new york suburbs. I don’t know what to say.” I don’t know how to explain myself, and why we couldn’t save you from the hulk.

“Well, I'm glad I was useful in helping out Spider-man. Has anything been happening besides injured superheroes.” He goes to take off his gloves, and wash his hands. Talking like this is small talk.

“Well the Aven-”

“Tony, I know about the civil war.” No he couldn’t possibly understand, he’s known about this for how long? Since a few days ago. He couldn’t possibly know. But never mind, there's no reason to talk when neither of us will have perfect memories of this set of questions.

“I don’t think I’ve mentioned Parker to you then.” Bruce sits down in the second chair next to Peter, and I let myself lounge in the chair simply to annoy, “He’s this kid who a few nights ago learned the basics of portal technology. And now he’s working with me and SHEILD.” Bruce has a conflicted sort of look on his face.

“Kid as in just out of college, or?”

“No, he’s a prodigy.” I let myself ramble, like suddenly I am unable to because of secrecy, “A fifteen year old who started community college earlier this year. His work is breathtaking. Like something I would do. He’s way too good for some shitty community college, he can explain the theories to his teachers and they mark him down because he’s too far above their skill level.” Bruce looks a bit worried, but I am swept up in the bubbling anger of the system that unjustly was about to waste the incredible genius of this scientist.

“Are you sure you don’t have a secret son or something, he sounds a bit too much like you.” He stands up, rubbing his eyes and stretching.

“If we didn’t find him based off of his parent’s DNA I would think so.” Bruce raises his eyebrows in an almost mocking way, seemingly not believing anything that I have been saying.

“Don’t ask.” Bruce just looks at me skeptically, then yawns a great ugly yawn in which I’m sure I can see down Bruce’s throat.

“I’m going to go to sleep now, FRIDAY, can you tell me if his vitals change, with a margin of 10%” Bruce says with yawning infecting the words with a sort of drawl, I look back at Spider-man/Peter who looks even worse than earlier if anything.

“On it.” The computerized voice sounds from the ceiling, and regrettably I hear a twinge in the speaking, a slightly unnaturally long pause between words. I guess the speech will have to be debugged.

“You sure are an old man, going to sleep this early?” I holler out, hoping to catch him before he rounds the corner, and if his huff of disapproval has anything to say, I do.

“It’s 3am!” His protests are weak, and dare I say tired. But then Bruce leaves, abandoning me to the endless room’s silence.

“Do you want me to alert you as well Sir?” FRI says, almost with emotion but I know that is the placebo affect. She needs altering before she can emote.

“I, I think I may just stay here.”

  
  


-PETER POV-

“Good morning Spider-man, there is food in the kitchen for you.” FRIDAY’s voice wakes me from a pseudo sleep, even though I was already awake. My bones feel magnetized to the bed, so I don’t even open my eyes. Then It hits me like a sack of bricks, FRIDAY is not in my house.

“No way.” I murmur as I look around the sterile white room, but when I turn my head a bit too far left I notice all the wires attached, “I feel like I ate glass. Also what?” My stomach turns, small pains stab at my abdomen.

“There is food in the kitchen.” The voice repeats, but slightly different almost as if it was a true human instead of an AI. I begin to notice all of the bandages wrapping around my torso.

“I got that, but like how am I here?” I ask, letting my eyes drape shut for just a moment. The mask that weighs heavy on my face is seemingly the only reason I can combat the painful bursts of adrenaline.

“Boss brought you here to patch up your 8 bullet wounds. Dr. Banner performed surgery on you to prevent you from dying of blood loss.” My memory feels unbearably fuzzy, bits and pieces of a horrible noise and blinding blue lights. Not much after that though, just pain.

“If this is a hallucination I am going to cry.” I mumble, trying to steady my breathing as it spikes, as I can hear the falsehoods and know the truth. Words spill out of my mouth as easy as a breath, a mental filter seemingly dissolved in essence.

“I assure you this is not a hallucination.” The voice that would be so much nicer if she was Karen states again, ever so slightly wrong in an almost uncanny valley way, though I heavily doubt even a single human would notice that.

“This must be a dream. Dr. Banner is on some alien planet.” I mumble, not truly caring what I say to this hallucination, dragging myself to a sluggish sitting position. I try to rub my awfully blurry eyes, though the true problem lies clearly in the very cloudy broken lenses on the spidey suit.

“I assure you this is not a dream.” I stand up from the bed, feeling stabbing pains as I stretch, “Dr. Banner said to be careful around the wounds.” My feet hit the ground and I am awfully reminded of a sprained ankle, one I don’t remember even getting. I start throwing the blanket at things, covering and uncovering.

“What are you doing?” Friday asks, midway through me lifting up one of the chairs. It seems to be the correct weight, but I just cannot be sure.

“Checking for inconsistencies, usually dreams do that.” I grumble, letting the chair fall to the floor in a very dramatic bang.

“I assure you that this is not a dream.” For some reason when Friday talks again I break from an ever growing frantic stupor, almost falling to the floor for an unknown reason.

“I know it's corny, but that's what a dream would say.” I chuckle far too hard at my own joke, letting my painful lungs struggle to keep black dots from my eyes, “I don’t see anything. You said there was food?” I ask, finding a clean pair of clothes on the ground -probably on the chair before I dropped it- and putting them on, these clothes were probably Mr. Stark’s though I try not to think about it.

“Yes, there is food in the kitchen for you.” The mechanical voice states, each word carefully enunciated and perfectly clear of breathing sounds and heartbeats. The whole experience is ever so reminiscent of when I had no sensitive senses, when far away every voice would sound the same and when the sounds of traffic were ever so muffled. I can’t tell if I miss it or not, but It blares alarms in my mind like nothing else.

I walk towards the door but catch myself with a hand on the door,“Um, where is Mr. Stark?” I ask, almost feeling my face flush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, sorry this update took so long. I just kinda kept looking at the chapter that was written and hating it too much to do anything about it, oof. Ill try to update a bit more often.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update! Please comment, it helps motivate me and makes this all worth it in the end.


End file.
